


Machines, Gods & Monsters

by Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum



Series: Machines, Gods & Monsters [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain America: The Winter Soldier spoilers in later chapters, Jötunn Loki, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1505543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum/pseuds/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the threat of interplanetary war looms, unlikely alliances form, loyalties are tested and dark secrets revealed. But with the fate of the worlds resting in the hands of the brain-damaged assassin and heir to an alien throne caught right in the middle of it all, things could get a lot worse before they get better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There were a great many things the Winter Soldier knew. How to use countless weapons; a handful of different languages; enough fighting styles to take out any opponent he came across. He didn't remember learning any of them, but that didn't matter. The mission was all that mattered.

And this mission was all that mattered to him now. He trekked through the bitterly cold alien wasteland, no thought to how humanity had come by the knowledge that they weren't alone in the universe just as he spared no thought to how far technology seemed to leap forward between his every mission. He didn't ask questions. It made no difference to him why this planet was deemed such a threat. His orders were clear.

Find the citadel. Find the king.

Ice crunched beneath his boots. Cracked far in the distance over the howling wind and sound of rocks crumbling to the ground. He tuned out the noise, listening for anyone's presence beside his own. Eyes scanning everything. Body primed to attack as always.

There was nothing. That wouldn't be the case for long, though.

He marched on, relentless, disguised in the shadows, until he saw a stone tower past the huge rock formations surrounding him. Almost hidden in the darkness, as he was. As his attackers would be. He gripped his gun tighter, paid closer attention to every dark crevice that could hide an enemy, slowed his steps until he crept with barely a sound through the ruins of an ancient civilisation towards his target.

The tower loomed overhead when he heard someone else on the frozen rock. The crunch of a footstep behind him. A low growl. With one swift movement he spun and raised his gun to aim at the creatures facing him. Three of them. Each seven feet tall at least and built of hard muscle and thick skin, daggers of ice forming in their hands. He could still take them down.

He was the asset. And the asset got the job done.

Gunshots echoed off the rocks as he fired, and the creatures kept charging. So bullets weren't going to slow them down. No matter. He tossed the gun aside and stood, waiting for them to come within reach. As soon as the first barrelled into him, its dagger splintering on his metal arm, he plunged the knife in his own hand through the thing's hide. Not a fatal wound, but it loosened the creature's grip on his arm enough for him to snatch the pistol from the holster on his thigh.

One bullet through a burning red eyeball. One down.

The others were on him in an instant. Something cold and sharp slashed across the back of his leg and he lurched forward, straight into a fist almost the size of his head. His cheek throbbed from the impact and his goggles shattered, tiny shards of glass scratching his eyelid. It was nothing. He got the job done. He didn't slow down.

He used the extra distance between him and the thing behind to twist and land a hard kick to the side of its knee. Bone snapped – right at the moment another blade sunk into his thigh.

His footing lost, he fell back against the creature which had stabbed him, but he still didn't stop. As its arm wrapped tighter around his torso, cracking ribs, he reached for his pistol again. Worked his metal arm free of the thing's crushing hold. Aimed at the vulnerable flesh beneath its chin. Fired.

Two down.

More footsteps thundered closer. Reinforcements, no doubt drawn by the commotion. He slipped a grenade from his belt and tossed it towards the opening of the chasm they appeared from before turning to slit the throat of the one struggling to get back to its feet.

In the noise from the explosion and rain of rubble and body parts he didn't notice the others approaching him from behind until it was too late. His hand flew for another weapon, but the nearest creature struck first. Pain blossomed across his temple, and then there was nothing.

 

The pain was the first thing he noticed when he began to regain consciousness. A dull ache across his ribs; the side of his face tender and stinging; his thigh still sore. He shifted on the hard, cold floor he lay on to free his right arm and feel for the damage on his face. His mask and goggles were gone and his skin covered in grazes. Must have been dragged here. But the pain he felt was minor compared to – compared to nothing he could remember, yet somehow he knew he'd experienced much worse.

It didn't matter now, anyway. He opened his eyes to study the small room that held him. Carved straight into the rock, the narrow opening blocked by a wall of thick ice. A prison cell.

They had him. He'd failed his mission.

But the asset did not fail his missions. If someone came for him, he'd fight his way past them. Find the king. Complete his objective. If not, it was only ice that contained him. He could break through ice. The asset did not fail.

He climbed to his feet and took a step closer to the frozen wall. Too thick to get through easily, though with his weapons gone there was no other option. He clenched his metal fist and threw his entire weight behind the punch.

The impact reverberated through his arm until he felt the vibrations along his collar bone. It had no other effect. No cracks in the ice. No dents. Not even a scratch. He tried again and again, eyes unblinking as he watched for damage to the wall, focused on nothing but breaking his way out of the cell.

The asset did not fail his missions.

He worked tirelessly until eventually something gave out – but it wasn't the ice. A spark jolted him and his arm went rigid, fingers locked straight. Not moving, no matter how much he tried. The ice was still fully intact. He wasn't getting out any time soon.

But he'd get out eventually. He had to. There was no other option.

He sank back down onto the ground, staring at his motionless arm. Willing his fingers to move again. If he could just make a fist...

Nothing. The arm was dead weight. His handlers would be able to fix it, but they were worlds away; he'd have to get by without it until he returned to Earth.

Get out. Find the king. Complete his objective. Get back to his handlers.

Now to find a way to do all that without his arm.

He thrust his heel against the wall. And again. There was something – a noise; faint, like it came from the other side of the wall. A shadow in the dim light that shone through the ice. Someone was coming.

The wall shifted, ice melting away as the shadow grew. It was shaped like a man. Smaller than the other creatures he'd already faced. No trouble to kill, even without the use of his arm. He crouched, prepared to make his move the moment the ice was gone.

"I wouldn't," the thing said, voice cool and detached, while the last of the ice disappeared long enough for it to saunter into the room. "You're in quite enough trouble already."

It was small; barely taller than he was himself, and not overly muscular, though the confidence it exuded suggested the creature was not one to be underestimated. Its eyes flicked up and down, taking in the sight of him still poised to attack. Unconcerned by the violence he would inflict the moment he did.

"Sit," it said, gesturing with its hand as if the words were a request instead of an order. He sat. There was no point in fighting before he had a chance to escape. And his visitor didn't seem hostile – yet. He would be ready the instant that changed, though. "So you're the one who killed over a dozen soldiers single-handedly," it continued. It looked almost impressed. "I thought you'd be bigger. And that does beg the question: what are you?"

He said nothing. The creature kept talking regardless.

"You aren't Aesir; they would have sent an army, not just one. Besides, you look more machine than man," it said as it crouched before him. Its eyes were fixed on his metal arm. Studying him. "And then there's the array of weapons you were found with – I assume they were weapons; it's difficult to imagine you doing much damage without any." He'd prove that theory wrong soon enough. "Certainly not Asgardian in origin...

" _Where did you come from_?"

A smirk tugged at the thing's lips when he didn't answer, and it leant in close before speaking again. "It would be in your best interest to cooperate. Right now I am the only thing standing between you and a slow, agonising death. One of the men you killed was our future king – there are many who long to tear you to pieces for that."

"Let them," he replied simply, his voice hoarse from disuse. He was dead anyway; better to have it over with now before they could try and get any information from him.

"A man willing to die for his cause," said the creature. "An honourable trait. Idiotic, but honourable. Yet something tells me this isn't your cause. The ones with the grand schemes don't tend to get their hands dirty, and you look more the type to follow orders than make them. So whose plan is this? Who sent you?"

He fell silent again. There was nothing he could say even if he wanted to. Kill the king; that was all he knew – he had no idea where the order had come from. He hadn't realised that until now.

The creature let out a sigh, eyes sharp and mouth a grim line. It was losing patience. "I could just torture you for information," it said. "I had hoped we could be a little more civilised than that, but–" it tugged at the tear in his trousers as it spoke. Planning to thrust its fingers into his wound. A warm up before the real pain started. It found only dried blood, and raised an eyebrow as it met his eyes again. "You heal quickly. That will prove useful – though I doubt you'll appreciate it quite so much."

"You're wasting your time. I don't know anything."

"I'm sure. You understand that I'll have to verify your story, of course; everyone claims ignorance at first."

A cold hand clapped against his forehead, thumb and fingertips pressing against his temples, and his body went rigid. There was a rough scream somewhere far off, as if he'd heard it with his head submerged under water. It had to be his, but he was hardly aware of it. There was too much in his head to focus on any one thing.

Something forcing its way inside his mind. Images and memories flickering to the surface, nothing he recognised yet somehow it all felt familiar. A tiny apartment; an army base; soldiers; smiling faces; a flash of red and blue... It almost seemed like a life, the kind of life normal people had. Not his life. Not his memories. But the thoughts were gone too quickly for him to decipher what they really were or what it meant, or how he had them somewhere in his head in the first place.

He was malfunctioning. He had to be. His handlers would be able to fix him.

Get out. Find the king. Complete his objective. Get back to his handlers. Let them fix him.

The hand dropped away and he opened his eyes. Still in his prison. The thoughts filling his head had been so vivid he was almost surprised he hadn't been transported somewhere else. How else could he have memories of things he'd never seen? His life was missions and targets and objectives. Nothing else belonged.

"Well, isn't that strange."

"What?" he said. Still panting. His head still aching. None of this made any sense.

"Your mind. It doesn't work the way it should."

He was malfunctioning. Broken arm. Broken brain. But he could still complete his mission. There was no other option. "What did you do to me?"

"I merely took a glimpse inside. Evidently I'm not the first to invite themselves into your head. I did far less damage than the others, however." Red eyes narrowed in keen interest. "What are you?" it said again, more firmly this time. Almost desperate to find out.

"I'm the asset," he replied absently, functioning on autopilot as he tried to understand what had just happened.

"You won't be for much longer, I fear. Trying to kill Laufey?" It sucked in a sharp breath. "We tend to take attempted regicide quite seriously here. It's curious, why Midgard would want Laufey dead. It's hardly an irrational position to take, granted, though what would your people have to gain from it?"

Whether the question was rhetorical or not, he didn't know. Didn't care. He'd be put to death; nothing the creature said before that time mattered. The memories of a life he'd almost recognise if he could just latch onto them wouldn't matter soon either, but if he was going to die he needed to make sense of the strange thoughts filling his head before they were snuffed out.

The creature stood and his eyes followed, up the strange markings that covered its skin to meet the eyes staring back down at him. "Whatever answers you may have had, it seems someone had the forethought to relieve you of them," it sighed.

"You're saying somebody took things from my head?"

"Took things out; planted other thoughts artificially... It's a mess in there." It glanced at the icy wall before looking back down at him, its lips pursed in thought. "Would you care to find out what exactly it is that's been done to you?"

***

The human was pitiful. Loki had expected nothing less, given the stories he'd heard of Midgard, yet this one was particularly tragic. And his remarkable physical strength only served to make the state of his fractured mind all the more disappointing. But then that was a mystery in itself, and one Loki was keen to get to the bottom of.

Pitiful, yes, but the human was certainly a thing of interest. And Loki had no intention of letting this opportunity slip away from him.

He crossed towards the citadel, heading straight for Laufey's throne when a guard stepped from the shadows to block his path. He puffed himself up to his full height and stood close enough to force Loki to crane his neck just to meet his eyes. It was a trick Loki had long grown weary of, though he was apparently the only one. He wasn't sure he'd met a single Jotunn who didn't love to subject him to this.

"Identify yourself."

"I'm sure you are capable of identifying me on your own," Loki said. "Unless even that is beyond the limits of your intelligence."

The guard growled at the insult and a tiny smirk flitted across Loki's lips. They could play their games, but he would play his as well. And his were far better. "I'm here to speak with Laufey," he announced.

"He'll not see you."

"He'll see me."

Another growl and the guard was escorting Loki through the crumbling pillars of Jotunheim's glory days until they reached the throne overlooking the ruin. In his youth, his every moment in this room had been spent imagining what the view would have looked like before the war. He'd thought it would be beautiful, yet now it was difficult to picture Jotunheim as ever having been anything more than a wasteland.

His gaze passed from the bleak mountain ranges in the distance to Laufey, sitting as if he'd thrown himself down in a rage and not bothered to reposition himself.

"Father," he said with a well-practised smile. Laufey's lip curled in response, fingers tightening around the jagged armrests of his seat before he pushed himself up and turned to face one of his simpering generals. Anything but look at his bastard.

"Is the prisoner dead?"

"Not yet–"

"I told you I have no care for making him suffer," Laufey interrupted. "I want him dead!"

The outburst was a far cry from his usual demeanour. 'Pleasant' was hardly the word to describe him, but he was not often one to let his emotions get the better of him. Loki had spent much of his life believing the man did not experience them at all.

"Is something the matter, father?" His smile was in danger of becoming a sneer as he spoke, though he would have to suffer through this conversation before getting to the matter he wished to discuss. It would be worth it if things went his way. That thought would get him through it.

"My last son is gone."

Loki ignored the barb. It was nothing compared to the many he'd heard before. Laufey certainly was grieving, to have no interest in thinking up a better insult. "We all mourn the loss," he said smoothly.

"All of us?" Laufey said as he finally deigned to look back at Loki.

"Some more than others."

"If you think I would name you my heir..."

Of course. He would rather see his bloodline end than give Loki the chance to prove himself as king. But he had no better option, and try as he might, Laufey could not ignore that forever.

"By all means," replied Loki, "father more children. Of course, any sons you did have would still be bastards, unless you wanted to waste yet more time finding a true queen. And you would still have to wait for them to come of age."

"I have no plans to die soon."

Pity.

"And we all expect many more fruitful years from our king. But you're a wise man, father; you would not leave your bloodline vulnerable with no heir for centuries."

Laufey nodded in acquiescence. "I could name your sister queen," he said. Clearly he'd been desperately trying to find an alternative to naming Loki heir while Loki had been busy. And desperate he was, to make that suggestion. Loki fought the urge to scoff.

"With Afvaldr as king? The man is an oaf. A fine leader of men, but no king."

"Better an oaf on the throne than a half-breed. I'll not have my bloodline end with ridicule. At least Afvaldr has forces loyal to him–"

"Whose loyalty you have already secured in turn," Loki interjected. It was an effort to keep the boredom from his tone. The sooner Laufey accepted what he could deny no longer, the better this would be for all of them. As loathe as Loki was to admit it, they had more important matters to concern themselves with at the moment than the prospect of his rule. "He would drive Jotunheim into the ground. A far cry from your esteemed reign."

Laufey scowled and sank back into his seat. He knew Loki was right. Loki suppressed a triumphant smile before changing the subject. "The prisoner was sent to kill you," he said.

"By whom?"

"He is of Midgard."

"If Midgard wants a war it shall have one." He glanced at his general again. Loki never had bothered to learn that one's name. "Send the word. We prepare to march."

"And what of Asgard?" Loki said. "Odin has already taken the Casket from us; what else do you think he would take?"

"This is not an unprovoked attack."

As if Asgard would take that into consideration. Jotunheim had been meek and unassuming under Asgard's heel for too long for Odin to tolerate them rising up again now. They'd be crushed, far worse than the last time Laufey had mounted an attack on Earth.

"I do not think the prisoner is acting as an agent of Midgard. Grant me leave to return to Earth with him and find who sought your end. I'm sure this matter can be resolved with diplomacy rather than warfare."

Laufey looked to be considering the proposal. Surely the prospect of being rid of Loki for a spell would be worth it. And if he and the human never returned? That would be even better.

"You have until the next moon," he said. "If you have not returned by then, warfare it is."


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't know how long the creature had been gone. It felt like a while, but it was impossible to say for sure. It didn't really matter; even if the thing did return, its promise to help him find answers would still be a lie. An incentive to make him cooperate. It wouldn't work. Even if the prospect of understanding what was wrong with his addled brain was almost too tempting to resist.

He'd thought the silence would help him focus. Weed out the thoughts fogging his mind and work out what they meant so he could get back to his mission. It wasn't helping. Nor was squeezing his eyes shut, blocking out everything around him to try and pin down even one of the half-formed memories. They just slipped further away. Gone as quickly as they'd come to him.

It couldn't be real. They were just figments – side-effects of the creature's tampering with him. Not nearly important enough to waste time thinking about instead of trying to find a way out of his cell.

But they felt real...

It didn't matter. He needed to get out. He couldn't think about anything but completing his mission.

He thrust his heel into the wall again, picking up where he'd left off when his guest interrupted. Making about as much progress as before; kicking against ice that wouldn't so much as crack. But he couldn't stop. He had to finish his mission and return to his handlers. He needed them to fix him.

He gritted his teeth as he kicked out with all his force. Nails digging into his palm, eyes searching for any sign of progress. Working faster when he found none. He didn't notice the shadow reappear outside until the ice shifted again.

The creature leant against the opening once the wall was gone, furs draped over its bare shoulders and carrying itself with even more confidence than it left with. It smirked as it looked down at him, eyes glittering with amusement, though it made no comment about his obvious attempt to escape. "Congratulations," it announced instead, "you're free to go – more or less."

He blinked and stared at the thing. "What?"

"You and I are returning to Earth."

"To find the people who sent me." It nodded. Well that was one way to get back to his handlers. But he needed to complete his objective first. He couldn't leave without finishing the job. "I don't know anything."

"Yes that was painfully clear already," it said. It didn't look like it was expecting much of a fight from him – he could probably catch it off-guard. Come up on it from behind the moment it turned from him, take it out with a chokehold and get back to work. "Though you may still prove useful. Get up."

He did as he was told, and followed the creature back out into the cold gloom. Snow had begun to fall while he'd been locked away, dusting the ground in white. Making it harder to slip away without being tracked. But he knew how to disappear if he needed to, even in these conditions.

"I would advise against trying to run," his guide said. It didn't bother to turn to look at him. He could have slipped away already and the thing would have been none the wiser. "They will find you. And as my ticket off of this rock, I would prefer you to stay alive at least a little while longer."

He'd take his chances.

He fell into step behind the creature and waited for his moment, eyes darting in each direction as they headed towards the tower. He couldn't see anyone through the snow flurries, couldn't hear anything but the wind, though if the weather made it harder to spot any more of the creatures, it would mask his presence in turn. This was the best opportunity he would have.

But before he could make his move, another figure rounded on them. A guard, judging by their proximity to the tower. Its gaze flicked over the pair, a sneer growing across its face. "You conspire with prisoners now?" it said to his guide.

"Yes, I thought I would escort the human past your watch and into the citadel so we could conclude our business away from the prying ears of his empty cell. Step aside; I have orders from Laufey. And now is certainly not the time to keep him waiting."

The guard let them pass and they slipped into the tower. More of the creatures everywhere they went, all eyeing the pair with interest. There was no way for him to escape now.

"So do you have a name, mortal?" his guide said as they climbed the stone steps carved roughly into the wall.

"Codename: Winter Soldier," he replied automatically. Barely even conscious of it until the words had left his mouth.

But that wasn't right. He had to have a real name. Everyone had a name. Though whatever his was, he didn't know it. To his handlers he was the Winter Soldier, the asset. He had no need for a name. Yet it still felt like he had one. Lost somewhere in his mind.

"Well that's close enough, I suppose."

"You have one?" he said after a moment. They were alone now, everything silent around them. One sharp tug on the creature's cloak and it could be tumbling down the countless steps they'd climbed. Almost certainly fatal, though even if not, it wouldn't be able to catch up with him again if he ran. It would be easy. Though he didn't do it.

"Excuse me?"

"A name."

"My name is Loki," it – he – said as they reached the top of the staircase and stopped outside a heavy wooden door.

Inside was more of the same; bare stone, only moonlight illuminating the large room. A pile of furs almost resembling a bed and ancient, tattered books scattered about all that set it apart from the bleak spaces he'd already seen.

"Your weapons," Loki said, leading him to the guns and knives they'd stripped from him. Peering down at them curiously while he slid each item back into place on his body. "What are these things?"

"Guns."

"I thought your people were more of the 'fighting with sharpened rocks on sticks' kind. You've come a long way–" Loki paused and eyed his metal arm "–clearly. What happened to you?"

He glanced down at it himself. He'd never thought about his arm before. He knew the amount of pressure needed to choke the life out of someone, how to snap bone, but the arm had always just been.

"I don't know."

"You know absolutely nothing of yourself, do you?"

He shook his head. The asset didn't ask questions. He knew his objectives – he didn't need anything else. Yet now he was fully aware of how much he didn't know...

 _Why didn't he know_?

"You are a peculiar one, mortal," Loki said. "Luckily for you, we may be able to find you some answers."

"Why would you help me?"

"It suits me," he replied simply, before turning away to cross the room. Loki snatched up another cloak and offered it to him. "Here; you must be cold."

"I'm fine."

Loki wasn't convinced. "We won't reach the mountains until morning; you'll need this tonight," he said. "Besides, I'd quite like to complete this task without drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves, and you do stand out."

He took the cloak from Loki's hand. Though he wasn't the one who'd need to worry about standing out soon enough. "You expect to go unnoticed on Earth looking like that?" he said while he threw the cloak around his shoulders. Not an easy task with only one good arm, though he'd regained enough movement in the other to manage it. Whatever had gone wrong in his metal arm, it seemed to be righting itself. Just as well. He'd probably need it again before long.

"Looking like what?" Loki's appearance shifted as he spoke. Skin turning pale. The red draining from his eyes. He looked human. No-one seeing him now would suspect he wasn't.

Loki was back to normal – if 'normal' was the right word to describe him – within an instant. Fast enough that he almost believed he'd imagined it. Wouldn't have been the first time his mind hadn't been working the way it should today.

"Come along, then," Loki said, slinging the bundle of supplies he'd gathered over his back and turning to the door. "I'd like to get out of here sooner rather than later."

With that they were off. Back out of the citadel and into the wild. They walked in silence for a while, his boots on the thick snow the only sound now the wind had died down. Loki moved noiselessly, bare feet hardly making an imprint on the ground. A far cry from the others of his kind.

"Is this how you arrived?" Loki said as they clambered over the broken stone of a collapsed pillar blocking their path. It hadn't been there when he'd come this way earlier. Only a light dusting of snow covering it – it hadn't fallen long ago. The others looked ready to crumble at any moment as well, but once they had passed the pillars they'd be out on the open tundra. It wasn't often he preferred that option. "Through the mountain pass?"

"Yes."

"Now how would your people find that one little portal?"

"How did yours?"

"They didn't," Loki replied, glancing back at him with a grin. "I did."

Loki fell quiet after that. It was no concern to him. He was still struggling with the thought niggling in the back of his mind, telling him he'd understand everything if he could just focus hard enough. One foot in front of the other, ignoring Loki and the desert around them, and he'd remember. For miles he tried, yet nothing.

Of course it didn't work. He wouldn't understand a thing until his handlers could fix him.

The mountains crept into view on the horizon when Loki finally slowed to a stop and broke their silence. "I don't suppose you have any ideas where to start once we're on your realm?" he said.

"I have handlers I'm supposed to report to when I finish my mission."

Loki arched an eyebrow in response. "Well, look at that," he said, "you prove yourself useful already." He turned back towards the mountains, harder to see now as the snowfall grew heavier. Just a vague outcrop of white against the inky skies. "What happens if you return to your handlers without having completed your objective?"

"I don't know."

It had never happened before. He couldn't remember it ever happening before. But it was their job to look after him, wasn't it? If he was damaged it was their job to fix him so he could get back out into the field. They would have to take him in.

Loki shot him a sidelong glance. Expression unreadable. "They tell you little."

"They tell me my targets. Nothing else is necessary." It was starting to feel like there was a wealth of essential information he was missing, though.

"And the identity of the person who sent you here," Loki said. "It isn't necessary for you to know that."

"No."

His brow furrowed. Considering. Readjusting whatever plan he'd been forming. "Your handlers are not going to be of much use to us, are they?"

They weren't going to tell him who ordered the hit on Laufey, that was for sure. No matter how persuasive Loki was.

"You don't want to contact them when we get back to Earth."

"Perhaps not," Loki replied. "I certainly think it best that they remain unaware of your return for as long as possible."

Made sense. But it did leave the issue of how else they were supposed to find answers. And he still needed his handlers' help, even if Loki didn't.

"They're still our way in," he said.

"That they are."

The winds picked up around them. Stinging his bare cheeks; forcing him to squint to keep the snow from his eyes. He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself while Loki paused beside him, glancing up at the sky, then towards the rocks in the distance.

"A storm's on its way," Loki said. "There are caves along the base of the mountains; we'll take shelter there until it passes."

By the time they reached the mountains and ventured into the nearest cave they could find, the storm was almost overhead. Wind screaming around their ears; snow too thick to see more than a few feet in front of them. There was no way they would have been able to climb in it.

"How long will it last?" he said, staring out to the mouth of the cave where Loki stood.

"Some time, I imagine," Loki replied as he strolled back towards him. "We may as well get some rest."

No wood for a fire. Not surprising; he hadn't seen a single tree in all the miles he'd walked across this place. Loki set his things on the ground and took a seat atop his cloak, tossing a small brick of something dry and chalky over to him without a word. Some kind of food, probably, though he didn't bite into it to find out. He had more important concerns.

Loki had rolled onto his side – settling in to sleep. A tiny smirk tugged at his lips. This was his chance. No company; no distractions; no-one who could find him before he'd made it back to Earth.

He sat, silent. Listening to Loki's breathing, waiting for it to slow as he fell asleep. Fingers carefully dragging his knife from its holster while he moved into a crouch. Creeping toward Loki without a sound. He didn't dare to exhale.

One good slash to the throat would do it. Loki wouldn't even wake. Wouldn't see it coming.

He loomed over Loki's sleeping body, gripping his knife, ready to strike.

The instant he moved, Loki's fist closed around his arm. Cold – beyond cold. Distracting him from Loki's foot kicking him off balance and sending him onto the ground.

Loki was on top of him before he could regain his footing. Knees pinning his metal arm to the floor. One hand on his wrist and the other pressing against his face, searing his exposed skin. He breathed hard through his nose to keep from crying out at the pain. He wouldn't give Loki the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt.

"I will say this once, mortal, and only once," Loki said, leaning forward until their faces were inches apart as the cold spread further across his skin. It was a strangely familiar sensation. But that didn't make it any more comfortable. "I do not take kindly to attempts on my life. Do you understand me?"

He nodded, and Loki released his grip.

"You'll want to keep that skin warm," he said casually as he straightened and returned to his makeshift bed, turning over as if nothing had happened.

He watched Loki for a moment while he rubbed at his frostbitten skin, waiting for Loki's retaliation. "That's it?" he said when minutes had passed and none came.

"What?"

"I tried to kill you."

Loki sat up again and glanced at him without concern. "I don't take it personally," he shrugged. "Were our situations reversed I'd do the same. Of course, I wouldn't have been stupid enough to get caught in the first place, but still..."

"I was outnumbered."

"Does that thought comfort you?"

He paused, a frown knitting his brows. "No," he said. He'd done his best and it hadn't been good enough. There was no justifying it. He would have been dead now if not for Loki's intervention.

His handlers wouldn't like that. Perhaps it was best that he and Loki planned to keep their distance once they were back on Earth. He could find another way to work out what was wrong with his mind. Loki had promised him answers, after all.

"Sleep," Loki said. "And don't try to kill me again. It won't help you."

Loki lay back down and he did the same, staring at the damp rock and trying to silence the noise in his head long enough to fall asleep. It must have worked eventually – the next thing he knew Loki was roughly shaking him awake.

"Get up," he said. "The skies have cleared."

He glanced over at the mouth of the cave. A fresh blanket of snow on the ground, but none still falling. It wouldn't make the climb any easier, though they made good time despite the snow. The sky was still black when they reached the narrow opening in the rock face he'd arrived from. It barely looked like a crack in the mountainside, let alone an entrance to another world. How it stayed hidden, no doubt.

"I thought you said we wouldn't get here until the morning?"

"It is morning." Loki glanced up at the darkness above them. "Trust me," he added with a wry smile, before disappearing into the crevice.

He followed, walking at Loki's heels until the shadows ahead disappeared, replaced by trees and undergrowth. He and Loki were standing between two ancient trees, faint runes carved into the bark matching the ones that had been scored on the cave wall.

This was it. They were back.


	3. Chapter 3

"So," Loki said, "this is Earth." He was in human form again, bare skin now covered in an outfit similar to his own, neck craned to stare up at the trees around them. "It's not unlike how I pictured it."

He turned away from Loki and focused on the ground. Three long strides from the portal, and once he landed on something hollow he kicked the leaves and branches aside to find a metal trapdoor underneath. Locked by a keypad. He'd tapped in the code before he was even aware he knew it.

Inside was a duffel bag, and he dragged it out to examine the contents. His jacket, a cell phone, boxes of ammunition and a few hundred dollars in cash. He slid his jacket on and tossed the phone into the bushes before closing the door again. Couldn't risk being tracked if he hung on to it.

"Were you to contact your handlers," Loki said, "where would they take you?"

"Washington, DC," he replied after a moment's thought. He was almost certain that was where he'd been. There were other places in his head, foggy memories of missions in different cities, different countries, but Washington was the only one that didn't feel as if he might have dreamt it.

"Is it far from here?"

"Few hours' drive." He slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and set off in search of a road. "We need a car."

The first stretch of road they came across was quiet. They could have moved on, found somewhere busier, but a quiet road meant no witnesses. That was worth the longer wait for a car to pass.

He'd been crouched among the scrub brush for at least an hour already. Not moving, despite there being no need to hide his presence yet. It felt more like second nature to do so than anything. Loki was sat with his back against a tree to his side, still studying their surroundings. Neither of them had bothered to speak since they'd found the spot.

His head snapped up at the sound of a car finally approaching. Moving fast. It would be passing them within seconds. He sprung to his feet, still hidden from view, and reached for his pistol.

A blue sedan rounded the corner. Nice and inconspicuous. He waited until the perfect moment, his tiny window of opportunity for this to work, and fired. One shot, and the car would go skidding off the wet road. Land overturned in a ditch, the ensuing fire removing any trace of his presence.

No survivors. Assumed an accident.

But... no. That was something else. Another memory, perhaps; another mission. Cut a tiny hole in the brake lines and watch from the shadows as everything goes as planned. No shots needed. He didn't remember more than that. If what he did remember was even real in the first place.

He shook his head. He needed to focus on the present.

"What's wrong with you?"

He opened his eyes to see Loki stood in the middle of the asphalt, staring back at him with a frown. "I don't know," he said. He climbed from the bushes and followed Loki towards the car rolled to a stop further up the road. No fire. No puddles to send it veering off-course. "I keep seeing things – memories, I think. Not enough to understand any of it."

Loki glanced off to the side, lips pursed, as they reached the car. One tiny hole in the passenger side window; another in the driver's temple. He was mid-step rounding the front of the car when Loki finished pondering whatever was on his mind and spoke again.

"I may be able to help you remember," he said. "If you would want me to."

His eyes snapped back to Loki's face. Expression was earnest enough, though he didn't know Loki well enough to tell with any certainty whether or not he was lying. And Loki seemed the lying type.

"You'll be more useful to me the more you know," Loki said, in answer to the silent question his face. "Though you'll have to consider the possibility that your memories were taken from you for a reason. You may not like what you find out."

"I don't care." It couldn't be worse than not knowing anything. He had a job to do – he couldn't keep getting lost in his own mind.

Loki nodded. He understood.

A quick glance in each direction, listening for another vehicle approaching, and he dragged the body from the car and into the undergrowth at the side of the road, before sliding into the driver's seat while Loki climbed in beside him. The smell of blood was thick in the air, but they were no doubt both used to it. There was still nothing in the rear-view mirror as they sped off.

 

"How are you going to help me remember?"

Loki blinked and glanced over at him. It was the first either of them had spoken in hours. The thought had been on his mind for some time, though, and now seemed as good a time as any to bring it up. They were in Washington, searching for the first motel they could find where they'd likely go unnoticed, and as they travelled through increasingly familiar streets the sense of unease in his stomach built. Any one of the pedestrians they passed might be someone he worked for, someone who'd recognise him. Understanding how Loki thought he could fix him was a welcome distraction from that concern.

"There's a spell," Loki replied. "Similar to how I was able to glance into your head before, though far more intrusive. It puts you in a trance, of sorts; lets you explore your subconscious unrestricted. You should hopefully be able to unearth at least some of your memories."

Sounded promising. He didn't have time to give it much thought, though. They pulled up at a set of traffic lights, and as he studied the buildings around them a frown crossed his face. The bank on the opposite corner. He knew it. He'd been inside. "That's it," he said, nodding towards the building.

"Where to find your handlers?"

"The vault." His voice was thick as he spoke. He drove on, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. Scrutinising every person walking the street outside.

Loki's eyes stayed on him. He could see it in his peripheral vision, but he didn't look over to prompt Loki to speak. Didn't need to, as it turned out. "That's our best place to start searching for answers."

"I know."

"You aren't uncomfortable with that, are you?"

"Anyone recognises me, I can deal with them." That didn't do much to ease the strange dread he felt, though. But it seemed good enough for Loki. His attention shifted back to the landscape passing by the windows, staring wide-eyed at the buildings beginning to light up around them as night fell.

"Still how you pictured it?"

"No," he said. "Decidedly not."

Loki was still taking everything in with interest when they reached a motel, happy to remain staring out at the empty parking lot from their room while he left to get rid of their car. Someone would have found the owner's body by now; it was only a matter of time before they tracked down the car as well.

And they could always steal another one if they needed to.

He only made it a few steps from their abandoned car before he paused, eyes on another parked at the side of the road. A navy bomber jacket and a baseball cap sat on the front seat. Less conspicuous than what he was wearing now. And nobody around to notice his hand smash through the window to take them. He pulled the cap on low, his head down as he made his way back to the motel.

None of the few people he passed gave him a second glance.

"Here," he said when he returned to their room and tossed the armful of food he'd stolen from the vending machine outside onto one of the beds. "You hungry?"

Loki stepped back from his spot at the window and took a seat opposite him, picking up one of the bright wrappers to study it closely. "What is this?"

"Chocolate."

He peeled it open and took a tentative bite, arching an eyebrow in surprise as he chewed. "It's good," he said. Another bite and his eyes were on the window again. "Jotunheim's records are woefully outdated, aren't they? We still think yours is a primitive people."

"You've studied us?"

A humourless smirk spread across Loki's face. "As you may have noticed," he said, "I don't quite meet the physical requirements to fight for my father. And since I'm not needed elsewhere, people have little objection to my shutting myself away in whatever poor excuse of a library we possess for hours at a stretch."

"Your father..." It wasn't hard to put two and two together from what Loki had said. "Laufey."

Loki nodded. That explained why the guards followed his orders despite their obvious contempt for him.

"You don't seem too upset that I was sent to kill him."

Loki considered that for a moment. "I suppose I don't," he replied casually, and helped himself to another mouthful of food. That was apparently as much of an answer as he was willing to give.

"So you've been to Earth before?" he said, changing the subject. He'd have thought someone would have made note of a race of giant, blue-skinned aliens wandering about if they'd been here in the past. Unless someone had, and he simply didn't remember it. It was highly likely, at this point.

"Others have, many years past. We've been bound to our realm since the war."

"When was that?"

"Several centuries ago – to us, at least. I was born during Jotunheim's last defeat." His eyes hardened as he spoke, though something else flitted behind them; some pain or bitterness at whatever thought was on his mind, perhaps. The look was too subtle to really decipher. But the curious expression he'd been wearing for most of the day returned quickly enough. "Have the other realms advanced as much as yours in this time?"

He shrugged, and Loki rolled his eyes in response. "Of course," he said with a huff. "You know, your lack of knowledge is incredibly frustrating, mortal."

He was already painfully aware of that himself. "How do you think I feel?" he replied.

"Well let's see what we can do to fix that, then, shall we?"

At his swift nod Loki tossed the empty chocolate wrapper in his hand aside and climbed to his feet. "Lie back. You may be under the effects of the spell for some time." He made himself comfortable and Loki stood above him, a hand settling over his forehead, not nearly as cold as it had been the last time Loki touched him.

Nerves chewed at his stomach. Loki was right; he probably wouldn't like what he was about to find out. "Your mind will take you where it will," Loki said. "Don't try to fight it."

It didn't feel like anything at first, just Loki's hand on his skin, but quickly drowsiness crept up on him and he closed his eyes, letting himself drift somewhere between consciousness and sleep. It was an oddly peaceful sensation. For whatever reason, he'd expected this to hurt.

That would come soon enough, though.

The memories that began to come back to him were as intense as if he was experiencing them for the first time. Meeting Loki; setting off on his mission to take out Laufey; waking up inside the vault in the bank. And then there was pain searing through him, again and again, familiar and new all at once. Screaming filling his ears, his own and other people's mingling together into an awful cacophony. Faces hovering above him. Dragging him through the snow. Strapping him into something. He could feel the leather across his torso. His heart threatened to burst from his chest, terror gripped him so tightly. And he knew. Knew exactly what they were going to do to him. Knew that he couldn't go through it again. He needed to fight, to get back to–

His eyes snapped open, his heart still racing and skin damp with sweat. He was on the floor in the motel, slouched between the side of the bed and the nightstand, echoes of pain throbbing throughout his body.

It took him a moment to register Loki crouching before him. He didn't look impressed. "I do believe I told you _not_ to fight it," he said.

"Bucky..." he gasped.

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Bucky."


	4. Chapter 4

James Buchanan Barnes.

That was him. That had to be him, didn't it? The memories flooding his consciousness – of a life, of being a real human being rather than whatever the hell this was he'd become – were too detailed for it all to be a fabrication. Though creating an entire identity and planting it somewhere in his mind was probably child's play, considering what else had been done to him over the years.

But there were no other personas in his head, as far as he could tell from his muddled thoughts. If Bucky was just another piece of programming or some cover identity for a mission, why would he only need the one?

Geez, he didn't know. His head hurt too much already to try and figure all this out.

"You remember?" Loki said. He nodded, wiping at the thick, warm liquid trickling from his nose while he pushed himself shakily to his feet. His hand came away bloody. It was far from the first time he'd looked down at it like that. "How much?"

"I don't know. Too much." It was as if the floodgates had been opened, memories rushing back to the forefront of his mind. And now they threatened to drown him.

He didn't feel like Bucky Barnes. But at the same time, it felt as if he should. As if he'd been Bucky once, and piece by piece he'd stripped away every last trace of that man. Each gunshot, each explosion, each sickening way he saw figure after figure slaughtered at his own hands removing just a little bit more of the carefree boy he could still remember.

And God, the things he'd done...

Bile rose in his throat; mingled with the tang of blood he could already taste. Pushing past Loki without a word, he staggered into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, taking long, shaking breaths to ride out the nausea. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at his reflection. He was already picturing the bright-eyed young man that had once stared back at him; neat and clean-shaven, a crooked, confident smile never far away. A stranger wearing his face.

"We can't go back into the vault," he said. He stayed in place gripping the edge of the old basin for support, but he could see Loki in the corner of his eye, stood in the doorway watching him with concern.

"What did they do to you there?"

He shook his head. He couldn't even tell for sure. He remembered being strapped down, the agony tearing through his brain, but if he'd ever understood how they'd made him forget everything about himself, he didn't know it now. And he wasn't eager to delve further into those memories to try and find out. He just knew he couldn't go back. He couldn't forget again.

"Okay," Loki said, while Bucky straightened and turned to face him, his head still throbbing, "we'll come up with a different tactic." The knot in his stomach eased a little at that. He was still nauseous, though that was probably just the result of the images burned into his mind; decades' worth of carnage he was responsible for. "You should rest. You look like you may keel over at any moment."

"Yeah," he said absently. Loki turned back into the main room and he followed, sinking down onto the closest mattress before glancing over at Loki standing in the centre of the room, seemingly at a loss. "What are you going to do?"

"I suppose I could wander a while. I'd like to see as much of this realm as I can before we're to leave it again."

"You're taking me back with you?" He had hoped Loki would, that it would give him his chance to complete his mission, yet where he stood now – wherever that was exactly, he had no idea – there didn't seem any point in it. Once he and Loki knew why Laufey was a target he'd be able to decide if killing him was for the greater good, or just to suit his bosses' purposes.

"I hadn't given it much thought," Loki said after a moment's consideration. "I imagine Laufey would still wish to see you punished if you were to return. Though would you be any safer remaining here?"

That was a point. "Probably not," he replied, rubbing his jaw as he mulled over the likely course of events in the coming days. It was only a matter of time before his handlers grew suspicious. He was too good to go down easily, and death was just about all that could keep him from heading back to them. Even now there was a part of him itching to take Loki out and return to the familiarity of his life as the Winter Soldier. Luckily his regained memories were more than enough to silence that impulse. But once they suspected he was off-mission and back on Earth, they wouldn't stop searching until he was found.

Loki's voice cut through his thoughts. "Rest," he said, more forcefully this time. "There's no need to come to any decision tonight." He stepped back towards the door, noiselessly slipping from the room and leaving Bucky to himself.

The solitude wasn't nearly as comforting as it used to be. He remembered hating being on his own when he was young, too much fun to be had with friends whose names were lost to him now to waste time by himself, though something had changed in him since. He worked better alone, able to focus on getting the job done as efficiently as possible without distraction. Alone was what he was used to. But now, he felt more like a scared child than anything else, sitting on the edge of his bed in a dim room that was suddenly far too big for him and wishing for a distraction from the silence.

No way was he going to go chasing after Loki to ask him to stay, though.

He tugged off his boots with a sigh and tossed them across the room. They landed with a heavy thud against the bag now filled with his weapons, lying on the floor by the rickety dining table, and he frowned as he glanced over at it. He was sure no-one had seen him while he'd been out and about, but if ever there was a time to be overcautious, this was it. He crossed the room in two long strides and snatched up the bag, shoving it under his bed, out of sight yet close enough that he could easily reach it if he needed to, before he finished undressing and climbed into bed.

 

A face swam into view above him. Kindly, almost like an old schoolteacher, yet his presence inspired dread. _"What is your name?"_ the man said.

_"James Barnes... Sergeant..."_

_"Ready him for treatment again."_

He heard screaming. It sounded like his, but he couldn't tell if his mouth was even open to make the sound. Couldn't feel anything but the white hot pain filling his head. When it finally ebbed away the man was peering over him again. Different clothes this time. God only knew how much time had passed.

_"What is your name?"_

_"... Barnes."_

Screaming again. More pain, until blackness swallowed him. He came to to find the same face looking down at him once more.

 _"What is your name?"_ He couldn't respond. He didn't remember it. The man smiled at his silence. _"We have a mission for you, soldier."_

There was a flash of icy cold on his skin. He was used to the cold, but this was different, more intense. It sent him reeling backwards, snapping back to reality to find Loki pinned to the mattress beneath him, his metal hand still around Loki's throat. To his credit, Loki seemed no worse than slightly put out by Bucky's attack. The freezing hand on his clavicle had been more to wake him up than to fight him.

Loki stared up at Bucky with exasperation in his eyes. "Pleasant dreams, I take it?"

"Something like that," he said as he sat back on the bed to let Loki climb to his feet. He was still a little disoriented, though the stinging mark Loki had left him combined with the familiar smell of the motel room helped ground him in the present. "I thought you were off exploring."

"There's plenty of time for that. We're in no hurry to return to Jotunheim."

"We're in a bit of a hurry."

"That depends on how serious we are about preventing this war," he replied. The orange glow from the streetlamp outside shining through the window illuminated his smirk, the other side of his face still cast in shadow. He took a seat opposite Bucky and plucked up one of the soda bottles lying on the mattress beside him. It was probably warm by now, having been sitting out on the bed for the last few hours, but Loki gulped down a long mouthful without complaint.

His words brought back to the surface a question which had been on Bucky’s mind for some time. He’d just been too distracted to put voice to it until now.

"Why do you care about preventing it?"

Loki had said it himself: this was his ticket off Jotunheim. Did he actually have any interest in trying to keep the peace, or was this whole thing simply an opportunity to get away from his home for a while? And why hadn’t he abandoned Bucky the moment they’d arrived on Earth were that the case?

"The last time Jotunheim launched an attack on your world, Asgard retaliated," Loki started.

"Asgard?"

"Home to the Aesir. They like to think themselves guardians of the nine realms." His expression was sour as he spoke. There was apparently no love lost between the worlds. "Well, you saw the state they left us in. If my father led another war against Earth, Asgard's wrath would be even greater. And I would prefer for my throne to still be intact when I take it."

That made sense. And the idea of Loki on the throne wasn't such a bad one, actually – though when the competition was bloodthirsty warmongers, it wouldn't take much to be the better candidate.

"If Asgard is so much more powerful than you, why's your old man plotting an attack?"

"Because he's a fool, blind to reason," Loki said, voice laced with bitterness and frustration. He sighed before adding, "I should have just let you kill him."

"Why didn't you?"

"If anyone is going to kill Laufey, it'll be me. I've earned it."

Bucky gave a nod of understanding as his eyes flicked to Loki's hands, balled into fists since their conversation had turned to Laufey. One of them was still blue. Loki must have noticed it as well, unclenching his fists while his hand turned the same milky white as the rest of his skin.

"How long can you keep that up?" Bucky said.

"As long as necessary."

"Can all of your kind do it?"

"No," he replied bluntly, the muscle in his jaw flexing beneath his skin as he stood and rounded the bed to gaze back out of the window. An uncomfortable silence threatened, until Bucky followed Loki and spoke again.

"It's impressive."

Loki blinked, as if he wasn't quite sure how to react. "Thank you," he said cautiously after a moment.

Bucky stared down at Loki's hand, completely unremarkable again now thanks to Loki's abilities. "What else can you do?"

A smile crept across Loki's face and he pressed a hand to Bucky's arm, before an otherworldly green light grew between them, bright enough to force Bucky to close his eyes. When he opened them again and looked down, the cold metal was gone and he was staring at his own human arm, freckled and scarred as it had always been. It was like he'd never lost it.

Bucky's breath caught in his throat. He didn't dare move his arm for fear the illusion would crumble if he did – and that was all it was: an illusion, and no matter how convincing it was, he needed to focus on that – though finally he worked up the nerve to touch his skin. The arm didn't change, and his fingers brushed against soft, warm flesh. He could even feel his tendons move beneath his skin as he curled his fingers.

But it wasn't real. Loki couldn't possibly have that kind of power. And even if he could, it wouldn't change anything else. The arm was a symbol, yet he was still the Winter Soldier without it.

He tore his eyes away. "Wow," he managed, almost breathlessly. Anything more than that was beyond him in that moment. He needed to sit down. It had been an overwhelming day. Though whatever part of his brain was responsible for moving his feet back towards the bed wasn't functioning well enough to send the order, and he stayed rooted in place in front of Loki.

Loki reached out again and with another glow of light the illusion disappeared. If he was honest, Bucky was glad for it. Cold reality was somehow less painful than dreams of what he'd been. But Loki's hand didn't drop away after his spell was finished. Instead his fingers hovered above the web of pink scars where the arm joined Bucky's body, eyes filled with questions that didn't pass his lips.

Bucky had been curious about what had happened to him too whenever he'd noticed the scars. It didn't feel much better knowing the truth; remembering the fall, being dragged barely alive through the snow and drifting in and out of consciousness while Zola's men worked on him. But it was hardly the worst memory floating around in his head, and the lifetime of nightmares he was sure to have from this point on was worth it if it meant his mind was his own again.

"What is it?"

"Hmm?" Loki blinked away his daze, withdrawing his hand as he finally met Bucky's eyes. "Oh, nothing. I was just wondering how you work."

"Yeah," Bucky said while he studied the arm himself. "You're not the only one."

 

"What about that one?"

Bucky looked up and followed Loki's gaze to the woman leaving the bank. They'd been sat in the small diner across the street for a while now, Bucky's cap pulled as far down over his forehead as it would go and his metal hand hidden inside his jacket pocket, despite the fact none of the dozens of people sat in the other booths or walking the streets outside had so much as glanced their way all afternoon.

He shook his head. "Doesn't look familiar."

There was only one person in particular he had any interest in finding. He could see the man's face, remembered trusting him implicitly the few times they'd met, but the name was just gone. If he wasn't the one who'd given the order to assassinate Laufey, he was at least higher ranking than the other men Bucky had worked for. Either way, that made him the best lead in their search. And it made the chances of him showing his face at the bank slim to none, though without a name to track him down by, Bucky and Loki were stuck hiding out at the diner hoping they might just get lucky.

Bucky turned his attention back to the pages of paper spread over their table, the burger sitting in front of him still untouched, while Loki kept watch. He'd spent the last two days scribbling down everything he could remember, his handwriting barely legible but just getting it down on paper had proved useful in trying to work through the memories he still didn't fully understand. He was even starting to feel a little more like himself, the name Bucky no longer feeling like a stranger's even if most of his memories still did, though he'd yet to unearth any snippets of information hidden away inside his head that might help Loki. But he’d keep trying.

Loki huffed, the gust of breath sending pieces of paper fluttering across the table towards Bucky. "Do you think we're to have any success waiting for one of your handlers to happen past?" he said wearily, impatience finally getting the better of him. It was incredible he'd lasted this long. Bucky wouldn't have been able to manage half this time without his task to keep him busy.

"Not really." In all the time they'd had eyes on the bank, they hadn't spotted a single person he recognised, and probably wouldn't if they stayed longer. But it wasn't like they had a better plan. "Five more minutes, then we'll go."

Loki nodded and rubbed below his tired eyes while Bucky pushed his plate over to him. Spending the afternoon reliving murder after murder he'd committed had ruined his appetite – and he wasn't anywhere near done yet. He grabbed another handful of paper napkins to shove in his pocket for later and began collecting the dozens he'd already covered in writing, glancing up every time Loki pointed someone else out. They had as much luck as they'd expected to.

"Is this how you would operate as the Winter Soldier?" Loki said as they walked back to the motel. "Spending hours waiting for just the possibility of catching a glimpse of your target?"

"They had other schmucks to do that a lot of the time. Mostly they just brought me out for the violent part." That was what he was built for, after all. It was what he was best at. Even before he was the Winter Soldier, he'd had a disturbing aptitude for brutality. Zola had made the smart choice in picking him to be his pet experiment. "I prefer it this way."

"I'm not sure I would."

He didn't say anything else until they reached the motel. They were a few steps from the door to their room when he stopped in his tracks, his brows furrowing. "Smell that?" he murmured.

It was faint, but there was an unmistakable scent of cologne in the air. Could have been another guest's, though he'd seen maybe half a dozen other people since he and Loki had been staying there, and there were no extra door keys missing downstairs suggesting someone had checked into one of the rooms near theirs.

"Yes," Loki replied, his voice as low as Bucky's.

Bucky crept forward silently and pressed his ear to the door. He could hear movement inside.

So they'd found him. Damn it. He'd been trying so hard to stay hidden. His handlers would have caught up with him eventually, he knew, though he'd thought he would have more time than this. That he'd be able to figure this current mess out before worrying about how to get out of the next one.

His only solace was that it didn't sound like many people inside. There was a creak of a floorboard and some rustling, but no other footsteps, no quiet conversation. Probably only one or two men. He and Loki could take them out.

He glanced at Loki, standing ready with his eyes on Bucky, waiting to follow his lead. He was already gripping a sharp blade of ice, and Bucky reached for a knife of his own while his other hand closed around the doorknob. The metal rattled in place ever so slightly at the contact; barely audible but Bucky froze all the same, listening for any sign the people inside had heard the noise. When none came, he slowly twisted the doorknob. The door wasn't locked. With one curt nod to Loki, he thrust open the door and the pair burst into the room.

There was just one man inside, standing between the two beds. He looked more like an accountant than one of the Winter Soldier's handlers, but if he'd managed to track them down and break into their room, he couldn't be nearly as unassuming as his appearance suggested. And when he had the bag full of Bucky's guns sitting open and rooted through in front of him, it wouldn't take any great amount of skill to do plenty of damage.

His head snapped up at their intrusion, though Bucky was too quick for him, tossing aside his jacket and hat and charging across the room to grab the man before he could react. He shoved him down into the nearest dining chair with enough force to send it rocking back into the wall, his and Loki's bodies blocking the remaining space between the chair's backrest and the table and keeping the man in his seat.

From his calmness, this wasn't anything out of the ordinary for him. His expression was still completely neutral except for the tiny twitch of an eyebrow as he took in the sight of Bucky's arm. "I thought you were a myth," he said. He didn't sound surprised to find out he wasn't.

"You'll wish I was if you don't tell us what the hell you're doing here."

"My name is Phil Coulson. I work for SHIELD." He slid a hand into the pocket of his blazer, and Bucky and Loki both bristled, preparing to stop him, until he held up the other in a placating gesture. His hand reappeared holding a badge. As soon as he'd flipped it open Bucky snatched it from his grip to get a closer look at the stylised eagle emblazoned on it.

"You know that symbol?" Loki said to him.

"I've seen it before."

"The men you've been working for." It was more of a statement than a question.

Bucky nodded anyway and tossed the badge back into Coulson's lap. He stayed expressionless, though there was a glint of confusion in his eyes as he looked up at Bucky. "If the Winter Soldier was a SHIELD asset, I would know about it. We don't shy away from keeping records of the more–" he paused, searching for the right word "–unseemly side of our job."

He smirked at that. 'Unseemly' was the delicate way of putting it.

"Then why do my handlers wear your symbol on their uniforms?" he said.

"More importantly," Loki cut in, arms folded across his chest and eyes narrowed in suspicion, "why would your organisation have any interest in the assassination of Jotunheim's king?"

Coulson blinked, his confusion rapidly growing. Either he was an exceptionally good actor, or he really didn't know anything about this. Bucky wasn't certain which possibility he found more likely yet.

"We wouldn't. As far as we're aware Jotunheim is a rock, not worth anything." Bucky glanced across at Loki, bracing himself for some retaliation to Coulson's words, though Loki remained in place beside him, his expression unchanged. He wasn't about to contest that assumption. "There's nothing for us to gain from interfering in Jotunheim's politics."

"So you're not involved in any of this," said Bucky while he moved back to sit at the foot of his bed. Coulson wasn't going anywhere. He could still pull a weapon on them at any moment, but somehow Bucky doubted it. He looked as curious to find out what was going on as they were. "You didn't come here to try and bring me back in. Then what are you doing here?"

"We've been monitoring radiation levels for signs of extraterrestrial activity on Earth. Your arrival caught our attention, and I followed the trail here from the portal," Coulson explained. "I keep saying we need to block that thing off."

"How do you know about all this?" He didn't even remember finding out himself. One minute humanity had been alone in the universe; the next they hadn't. There were plenty of gaps in his memory where it seemed time had jumped years in an instant, though the discoveries and advancements he'd apparently missed had never felt quite so jarring as this one.

"A few months ago we had a visitor, from Asgard." Loki's lip curled at the word, and Bucky fought to keep a smile from his face as he watched him. Now wasn't the time to be amused by Loki and whatever weird issues with Asgard he had. "He filled us in, what details he could, and we've been playing catch-up ever since." He turned his attention back to Bucky. "You're saying you were sent to assassinate an alien king?"

Bucky's face was all the confirmation Coulson needed. He sank back against the wall, trying valiantly to take in all the new information he'd been presented with.

"And start a war in the process," Loki added.

"Jotunheim is going to declare war?"

"Unless I return with news of who sent the order for Laufey's head."

"And you think it has something to do with SHIELD." Coulson shook his head, his eyes focused on some indeterminate spot in front of him. "No, it's not... An order like that – I'd know about it. We'd all know about it."

"Perhaps someone doesn't want you to."

"Is it possible?" Bucky said.

"Factions within SHIELD; hidden orders and missions?" Coulson sighed. "I have no idea." He climbed to his feet, glancing from Loki to Bucky. He looked years older than he had when he’d sat down. "I have to get back to headquarters," he said. "I'll try and find out what I can, but I doubt there's much I can do to help you. If you're right about SHIELD's involvement in this, they'll know as soon as I start digging."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" They couldn't keep waiting to catch sight of someone at the bank. The answers they needed where with SHIELD. They had to be. And Loki and Bucky were running out of time to find them.

"I know someone. An independent consultant. If anyone can unearth SHIELD's secrets, it'll be him." He searched through his pockets for a moment and handed Bucky a cell phone. "Here; it's a secure line. My number's already saved on it. You find out anything else, let me know."

Bucky slipped the phone into his pocket as Coulson headed back towards the door. But before he could take more than a few steps, a thought occurred to Bucky and he shot to his feet. He was between Coulson and the door in a second.

"You still have access to all kinds of information at SHIELD, right?" he said.

"I do."

"Can you find out what happened to someone for me?" It was a long shot, but SHIELD had to be a pretty well-connected organisation. They were sure as hell more powerful than Bucky alone.

"That shouldn't be any trouble. Do you have a name?"

"Steve Rogers."

"Steve Rogers..." Coulson frowned for a moment, studying Bucky's face, before recognition flooded his features and he stared at him with wide eyes. "You're Bucky Barnes," he said, awe in his voice. There was a healthy dose of what sounded an awful lot like pity in his tone as well. "What happened to you? HYDRA?"

"I'm still fuzzy on the details."

"Of course." He paused, lips tight and eyes sad, and the expression knotted Bucky's stomach. “I'm afraid Captain Rogers is no longer with us."

Yeah, that made sense. Steve would have been in his nineties by now if he was still around, and stubborn as he was, not even he could fight old age. Tears still prickled Bucky's eyes at the news, though. "When?"

"1945."

"He didn't make it back from the war?" he said, more to himself than to Coulson, his voice barely more than a whisper. That revelation was like punch to the stomach. He'd been prepared to hear that Steve had passed away in the decades they'd been apart, but knowing he'd died so soon after Bucky supposedly had...

They never should have gone to war.

He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the tears threatening to spill and swallowed before speaking again. "What about the others?" He didn't hold much hope of good news.

"The Howling Commandos?"

"They all gone too?"

Coulson nodded. "I'm sorry," he said. He sounded like he genuinely meant it. "You guys were heroes."

"Yeah. They were."

He didn't even register that Coulson had stepped around him until he spoke again from over his left shoulder. "Sgt. Barnes," he said as he reached for the doorknob, "if you want to come out of the shadows, I can help. It shouldn't be too hard to resurrect you. With SHEILD's resources, we may even be able to find out exactly what HYDRA did to you, as well."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"The consultant will be in touch. Just... try not to kill him."

Bucky glanced back at Loki, who'd been stood silently taking in the conversation for the most part, but at Coulson's parting words he arched an eyebrow. He came to join Bucky once the door closed behind Coulson.

"Are you going to do it?"

"No way."

Regardless of whether or not Coulson himself could be trusted, Bucky didn't want SHIELD knowing anything about him they didn't somehow know already. He didn't believe for a second they weren't involved in all this, and if there were people at SHIELD aware he was still alive and prepared to use him to start a war, God only knew what they could do with the information on how to create their own Project: Winter Soldier. He would rather stay a ghost than let anyone else be subjected to the hell he'd been put through.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky dropped back down onto the edge of his bed, his body a dead weight his legs had run out of strength to support. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d even made it the few steps from the door before his energy escaped him. He was hardly conscious of anything at the moment.

 _Steve_.

Despite whatever hope part of him had clung to, he'd known the chances of Steve still being alive were slim. It wasn't him being gone that really bothered Bucky. He was supposed to have had a life first, the life he'd been too sickly to lead before he'd become a science experiment and been thrust into the war. He should have stopped fighting; finally worked up the nerve to ask Peggy to dance; got married and had kids and grandkids. He should have died as Steve Rogers, not Captain goddamn America.

The image of the worn carpet stretching between his and Loki's feet blurred in front of him, and Bucky closed his eyes, burying his face in his hand as he lost his battle to keep the tears from rolling down his cheeks.

"Who was he?" Loki said.

"He was my best friend." It felt like an insult to describe him with such a simple term after all they'd been through, though Bucky's throat was so tight when he tried to speak those were all the words he could manage. He wiped his wet cheeks and looked up at the ceiling while he tried to bring his emotions back under control. He couldn't get derailed by this. They still had a job to do.

"Did you really expect him to be alive after so long?"

"No," he said. “I didn't.”

"Then there's little sense in concerning yourself with his death now."

Bucky cast his gaze in Loki's direction. "Not a very comforting soul, are you?" But there was no anger in his words. He wasn't sure he could summon the energy to be mad at Loki even if he'd wanted to. It wouldn't change anything, and he sure as hell wouldn't feel any better if he lashed out at the closest thing he had to a friend.

"How would you have me react to the news your loved one has been dead a lifetime?” His expression was as indifferent as his tone, yet there was something in his eyes; concern or curiosity perhaps, stronger than the usual intrigue Bucky would catch on his face whenever he noticed Loki watching him. Or maybe it was just reflected warmth from the last streaks of sunlight struggling through the window. Bucky couldn't be bothered to try and decipher it.

"This is what your kind do, is it not?" Loki continued. "Die too soon?"

"Yeah; that's what we do."

But he hadn't.

Bucky sighed and pushed himself to his feet, tucking one of his pistols into the waistband of his pants before heading past Loki without a word to collect his jacket still lying in a heap on the floor since Coulson's intrusion. Loki was watching him with a frown as he slipped it back on. "Where are you going?" he said.

"Back to the bank."

"I thought we were finished for the day."

They should have been. Bucky already knew there'd be nothing to gain from heading back out, but that wasn't going to stop him. "I need to do something. I can't just sit around going crazy waiting on Coulson." Loki nodded and followed him out into the hallway. "You don't have to come."

He shrugged in response. Well it wasn't like he had anything better to do. "I must say, though, I'm not sure how sitting waiting outside the bank is any more desirable than doing the same here."

"That's why we're going inside."

"You're sure about this?" he said as they strode down towards the exit, effortlessly keeping in step with Bucky's fast pace. "You are aware that if we do come across one of the agents you work for and they capture you, they'll take your mind from you again."

"Then I won't let them capture me."

"And that plan worked so well for you back on Jotunheim."

Bucky came to a stop with a huff. He was being too rash about this. But he couldn't just wait, not for the sake of being too scared of what his handlers could do to him to venture inside the vault. Even if it meant he was likely to get himself caught again.

"I have you with me this time," he replied, looking up to meet Loki's eyes with determination. Loki studied his face for a moment before replying.

"Very well, then."

They crossed the parking lot without a word. It was quiet out; only the occasional car passing by and one man walking along on the other side of the street about thirty feet behind them. It was just as well. Bucky didn't have it in him to worry about being recognised until they reached the bank. He stared blankly at nothing in particular as they walked the same route they'd taken too many times already, barely listening to Loki's few failed attempts at making conversation.

The next time Loki spoke up, though, he did finally manage to pierce the fog in Bucky's mind to catch his attention. "Do you think Coulson will prove useful to us?" he said.

"I don't know," replied Bucky. "If it is SHIELD behind this, they won't want him getting his hands on any information he wasn't supposed to know – if there even is anything for him to dig up. This all seems too shady for them to keep records of. They won't want to get found out."

"Do you trust him?"

Bucky paused. They didn't have any reason to trust Coulson, really. They'd met him breaking into their room, after all, and he was an agent of an organisation Bucky wasn't sure he'd trust even if he knew for certain they had no involvement with the plot against Laufey. Yet his gut instinct was that Coulson was a good man. It was his gut telling him he could trust Loki as well, and that had worked out so far.

"I guess we'll find out."

Loki nodded, but as Bucky's eyes flicked over to him he noticed the man on the other side of the street again. He was still heading in the same direction as them, though when he looked over at Bucky watching him he quickly ducked into the nearest building. Bucky could still see his shape hovering by the store's large window as he and Loki kept walking.

He shook his head, eyes back on the concrete in front of him while he tried not to laugh at himself. Mysterious strangers lurking in the shadows following them? He was getting paranoid. Though paranoia was still better than the numbness that swallowed him when his thoughts quieted.

"I'm sorry the news of your friend's demise has hurt you," Loki said, and Bucky stopped in his tracks to turn and face him. He hadn't expected to hear that come out of Loki's mouth any time soon. He hadn't expected Loki to ever sound as uncertain of himself as he did in that moment either, but that was another matter.

"Thank you," he replied with a smile.

They were quiet again for a minute or two, only the faint sound of traffic in the distance filling the night air, until Loki said, "does that make it better?"

"No. But that's not why we say it."

"Then why?"

Bucky didn't have an answer for that question. He'd never really thought about it before. His brows furrowed while he tried to come up with a response that would make sense to Loki. "I guess it's just how you show a person that they're in your thoughts."

Loki looked to be pondering that. It would probably take him a while to wrap his head around the concept, so Bucky left him to it, glancing back over at the other side of the street as he gave in to his growing sense of unease. That same man was back again, still lurking thirty feet away, his hand up to his ear as if he was talking on a cell phone. The entire block was completely deserted save for the three of them by now, until a black van trundled round the corner behind them a moment later.

"Did you have any doubt of that?" Loki started, though Bucky wasn't listening.

"Loki–"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence before the van pulled up alongside them and half a dozen men poured out to surround them. Something pressed against Bucky's ribs and an intense shock went through him, but it wasn't enough to keep him from fighting off the limbs trying to wrap around him and steer him into the van. He kicked out, hard, hearing a cry of pain as bone snapped. Another kick to the head, pushing himself back against the man pinning his arms behind him for added force, and one of his attackers was down. The next was out of his way easily enough; Bucky threw his weight forward and had the man tumbling over his shoulder and onto the ground with a hard smack in one swift movement, freeing his arms to take out the others.

One went into the van's window in a shatter of broken glass and the last he tackled onto the ground, knees pinning his chest as he hit him again and again until the sound of Loki clearing his throat cut through the wet squelch of Bucky's fist connecting with the man's face. He was leaning casually against the wall, arms folded and what looked like a taser in his hand. Judging by the two unconscious men at his feet, he'd had no trouble taking out the ones who'd attacked him.

"I think it's safe to assume you've bested them," he said.

"You didn't feel like giving me a hand?"

"I thought you would relish the opportunity to work through some of your emotions." His eyes flicked to the mass of bodies Bucky knelt among. "You certainly aren't one to be trifled with, are you?"

Bucky almost dreaded to look down at his handiwork. The sight was just as bad as he imagined; just as bad as the destruction he'd caused as the Winter Soldier. He hadn't even been aware of himself for most of it, acting on reflex with no thought to the level of damage he was inflicting. His hand was dripping with blood, the red shining bright over the silver of his fist.

He couldn't stare at it any longer.

He pushed himself to his feet and staggered away, as far as he could get until the thick stench of blood left his nostrils. His breathing came out ragged, nausea churning in his stomach as he sank hard onto the ground. This was worse than the memories still haunting him of the things he'd done in the past. He hadn't thought that was possible, but at least the knowledge that his actions as the Winter Soldier were beyond his control offered some tiny shred of consolation. But there was no-one else responsible for what he'd just done. He'd been the one in control.

"There you are." He looked up to see Loki strolling towards him. "What happened to you?"

That was the hundred dollar question, wasn't it? He turned his hand over, the blood on his knuckles starting to dry and flake off when he curled his fingers into a fist. "HYDRA turned me into a monster," he said, still gazing down at his hand. It wasn't so much an answer to Loki's question as simply an objective assessment. That's what anyone else would call him.

If Steve could see him now...

"Monsters, I have some familiarity with," replied Loki as he sat down beside Bucky. "You are no monster, Bucky Barnes. A man with a certain specific set of skills, perhaps."

"A weapon." From the corner of his eye he could see Loki glance over at him, though he didn't look up to meet Loki's gaze. "Zola called me that once. 'HYDRA's greatest weapon.'" He sighed and dropped his head back against the wall behind him, ignoring the brief flicker of pain as his skull hit the brick. "What if I've been the Winter Soldier too long to ever be me again?"

"Were you truly just the weapon, that thought would be of no concern to you, would it?"

A tiny smile struggled its way to Bucky's mouth at that. It wasn't much of a comfort, and he probably didn't deserve any at all, but he'd take what he could get. Maybe there was some hope for him after all.

"You know, you're actually a pretty smart guy."

"You would be wise to remember that. Come," Loki said, patting Bucky's knee before he pushed himself back to his feet. "We've drawn more than enough attention to ourselves for one day."

Bucky followed Loki back to the van, steeling himself for the sight as they approached. But there wasn't much to see; only the shards of glass scattered across the ground and occasional blood spatter to suggest something had happened there. Loki had had the good sense to hide the bodies before coming to find him.

"Do you remember anything of this HYDRA's plans for you?" Loki said as Bucky slid the phone from his pocket to call Coulson. Hopefully he had some experience with cleaning this sort of thing up.

"Not much. There's some snatches of conversation here and there. I think people tended to talk about me like I wasn't in the room. Guess they knew I'd just be getting wiped again; didn't need to worry about what I heard. It doesn't make much sense, though, what I do remember."

"Would you like me to take a look?"

"No", Bucky said quickly. Too quickly. Loki arched one eyebrow in mild surprise as he looked back at Bucky, and Bucky offered him an apologetic smile. "I'd kind of like it if it could just be me in my head for a while, if that's okay."

Loki nodded. "Understandable. I fear we have a more pressing concern, anyway," he said, his gaze passing from Bucky to the van still idling at the side of the road. "It may not be safe for us here anymore."


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of their stolen car, his foot itching to step on the gas pedal, but with nowhere to go, he could only wait. He'd have thought with all the advancements mankind had made over the decades, traffic jams would be a thing of the past by now. It was the 21st Century – they were supposed to have flying cars, for Christ's sake.

The vehicles in front inched forward, and they rolled along another foot or two before coming to a stop once again while Loki fiddled with the temperature controls on the air conditioning system. He smiled at the burst of icy cold air that gusted out from the vents.

That was something Bucky had wondered about. Loki undoubtedly favoured the cold, yet he didn't seem uncomfortable in what had to be sweltering heat compared to the climate he was used to. Bucky would have to ask him about it at some point. But first, he needed to deal with Coulson.

_"I hope you two are pleased with yourselves_ , _"_ Coulson's voice echoed from the phone pressed against Bucky's ear. He sounded like he'd been awake all night. He probably had. Bucky and Loki had left him one hell of a mess to clean up. _"Two men dead; the others in the hospital. SHIELD is crawling all over this. We can only pray none of the men will be able to identify you."_

"Have you got anything out of them yet?"

_"Technically, I'm not even supposed to know about it. I won't be able to get close enough to speak with any of them. They were SHIELD agents, though – I know that much. How did they find you?"_

"We don’t know. But if they knew where we were staying–"

_"You were wise to get out of the city,"_  Coulson finished for him. The traffic moved forward again and Bucky turned onto a road moving a little quicker. Thank God. _"Where are you now?"_

"Brooklyn." It didn't feel much like the Brooklyn he remembered, though. Nothing really felt like he remembered. "There's something I gotta do here while we figure out our next move."

_"I'm sure there are some old SHIELD safe houses in the DC area we don't keep tabs on anymore,"_  Coulson said. _"I'll look into it; see if we can have you back in town within a day or two."_

"Thanks, Coulson."

_"Stay out of trouble."_  His voice was almost pleading. Bucky hung up and tossed the phone back onto the dashboard, fighting his urge to shiver in the chill building inside the car. The instant the phone came skittering to a stop Loki spoke up.

"What did he say?"

"He can't get to speak to them."

Loki huffed in response. "I told you we should have handled it ourselves. The moment SHIELD took hold of those men they were lost to us." He flopped back in his seat, his fingers still dancing gracefully through the frigid blast of air. "One look at you again and I'm sure they would have gladly told us all they know."

Bucky didn't return Loki's smirk. He turned his eyes back to the road, squinting against the morning sunlight reflecting off the windows of the tall buildings lining the street. "We wouldn't have had time to wait for them to wake up."

Loki opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak a frown dawned on his face and he glanced around as he realised they'd rejoined the gridlock they had been sitting in before. "Do you know where you're going?"

"Yes." Loki shot him a disbelieving look. "Give me a break. It's been almost 70 years since I was last here; the place has changed a little."

They found what they were looking for eventually, though, and once they'd pulled up outside the old iron railings lining the cemetery Bucky knew exactly where he was headed. He'd walked this way with Steve enough times to remember.

He came to a stop when he neared an old oak tree inside the grounds. It was a damn sight bigger than the last time he'd stood under its shade. That wasn't all that had changed. Bucky's eyes travelled down from the tree to the grave at his feet, its headstone worn with age, the freshly mown grass the only attention it had likely had in a while.

"Hey Steve," he said with a sad smile. "Sorry I got here so late."

It was a simple headstone; just Steve's name and date of birth below his parents', though the lettering wasn't as easy to make out now as it must have been when it was first carved. No mention of Captain America. That was down to Peggy, he'd wager. There'd be enough memorials to Captain America – there needed to be at least one for Steve Rogers.

He stared down at the grave for a while before a newer-looking headstone several plots away caught his eye. There was a pot of bright daffodils sitting in front of it. With a quick glance across the deserted grounds, Bucky plucked one of the flowers from the bunch and set it down below Steve's name.

Bucky's parents were probably buried here somewhere as well, now that he thought of it. He didn't have time to set off in search for them, though. At the sound of a car slowing to a stop he looked back over to the cemetery's entrance to see an SUV park not far from where Loki stood by the gates. A woman slid from the front seat, glancing at Loki as she passed, a bouquet of flowers tucked under her arm.

She wasn't heading in Bucky's direction, yet he thrust his hand into his pocket anyway, just seconds before her gaze turned to him. If she had caught the glint of sunlight on metal, hopefully it would simply look like the light catching a watch. It was probably still best to get out of there, though. His eyes stayed on her until she dropped out of sight, and he backed away to return to Loki.

He was studying a nearby headstone with curiosity when Bucky joined him. "This is how you honour your dead," he said, a light frown on his face as he tried to understand.

"You don't mourn your loved ones on Jotunheim?"

"'Loved ones' may be overstating it," Loki said while they turned to head back to the car. "My father grieved for my brothers, though I think it was the loss of his bloodline he mourned more than the loss of their lives."

"Guess he's lucky he's still got you, huh?" Loki scoffed at that, and Bucky watched him for a moment as they climbed back into their seats, chewing his lip until he worked up the nerve to speak again. "You're different from the rest of your kind."

Loki nodded, his jaw clenching as he did so, but he didn't elaborate. Bucky hadn't really expected him to. Any time their conversation turned towards Loki's life on Jotunheim it tended to end in silence. Really Bucky shouldn't have brought it up. He started the engine and pulled out into the light traffic without pushing the topic any further.

He was scanning the streets in search of a hotel within their rapidly shrinking budget when Loki broke his self-imposed silence. "My mother wasn't a frost giant," he said. "I'm not sure what she was. I don't remember her."

His gaze stayed trained on the road in front of them, purposefully avoiding Bucky's eyes or not he couldn't tell, but Bucky nodded all the same. That couldn't have been a walk in the park. The few words Loki had spared about Laufey painted a vivid enough picture of what he'd have been like to grow up with. Bucky didn't envy Loki one bit.

He didn't voice his thoughts – they'd already spent more time on the subject than Loki probably would have cared to – yet the silence that settled between them until they pulled up outside a modest-looking bed & breakfast was a lot more comfortable than the one that had passed before it.

Their room was smaller than at the motel; just two double beds and a dresser, with an adjoining bathroom, but it was cleaner at least, and still quiet enough for them to avoid being noticed. They'd only be here for a day or two, anyway. If it did take Coulson longer to find them somewhere to stay, they'd have to figure something out themselves. It had been a week already and they still didn't have any solid information; they couldn't afford to waste much more time.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Bucky said as he dropped his bag and stated stripping off his clothes.

He smiled to himself when he stepped into the cubicle. This was a luxury he hadn't grown tired of yet. And from the grime and traces of blood he hadn't managed to rinse off the night before turning the water a murky pink around his feet, it was one he certainly needed. He maybe didn't need to keep standing under the stream long after he'd finished washing himself, just enjoying the warm water cascading over him, but between the less-than-pleasant hosing down he used to get after his missions, the scant opportunities to so much as scrub his face during the war and his childhood full of lukewarm shared baths, it was a rare thing for the act of getting clean to be a refreshing experience.

Loki's gaze flicked to Bucky as he returned to the main room at last. He'd been in his favourite spot, watching the world from the window, his fist curled around the cell phone which had been in Bucky's jacket pocket. "You know how to work that thing?" Bucky said, nodding to it while he unwrapped the soft towel from around his waist and began to dry himself.

"I think I have succeeded in picking up the technique." Bucky grinned at Loki's scathing tone. "Agent Coulson has sent the location of a refuge for us."

"Good." From Loki's grim expression, he apparently didn't agree. "What are you thinking?"

"We were followed once Coulson knew our whereabouts," he said. "He is still an agent of the organisation undoubtedly involved in some capacity, and now he’ll be aware of our location once again upon our return to Washington. What reason do we have to trust his claim that the place is no longer being monitored by SHIELD?"

Bucky sighed, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked down. The carpet wasn't nearly fascinating enough to warrant the intense scrutiny he gave it, though watching the water trickling from his feet soak into it sure beat having to meet Loki's gaze.

"Please tell me you are at least entertaining the possibility he has been lying to us about the extent he’s aware of this business."

He hadn't wanted to, though Loki's argument was hard to ignore. Fortunately he didn't need to offer an answer right there. The phone started buzzing again and Bucky reached out for Loki to hand it to him. It wasn't Coulson's number flashing up on the screen.

"Hello?"

A man’s voice answered. _"Who am I speaking to?"_

"You're the one calling me, pal," Bucky said as he rubbed at his hair dripping cold water down the back of his neck.

There was a sigh, probably accompanied by an eye roll on the other end of the line, before the man spoke again. _"I'm calling at Agent Coulson's request."_

"You're the consultant?" Loki's eyes hadn't left Bucky since he'd entered the room, though his interest spiked at the word. He took a step closer, trying to catch what snippets of conversation he could, and Bucky tilted the phone away from his ear a little so they could both listen.

_"That's what he called me?"_  He made a thoughtful noise and paused for a moment while Bucky's brow furrowed. _"I like it."_

"Uh-huh." Geez, who the hell was this guy?

They didn't have to wait long to find out.

The next day they were back in Washington, standing in an opulent hotel corridor outside the consultant's room waiting for the door to open. Loki was taking in the sight around them with wide eyes, unable to hide his awe. Bucky didn't blame him. He had never seen anything this fancy before, either. He'd probably be looking around dumbstruck as well if he wasn't preoccupied watching the other people making their way through the corridor. He and Loki hadn't escaped anyone’s notice; just about everybody had shot them furtive glances as they'd passed, though that wasn't necessarily a cause for concern. They definitely stuck out among the obvious wealth and class of the other guests.

Bucky gave another long rap at the door and finally there was the sound of movement on the other side. A man who was probably about 40 opened the door, some electronic device Bucky had seen before but couldn't think of the name for in one hand, his tie loosened and the top few buttons of his navy shirt undone. It looked like he'd started to get undressed and had gotten distracted.

"My god, they let you into the building dressed like that?" he said, his eyes flicking up and down them both with distaste. He was one to judge. It was taking all of Bucky's effort not to snicker at the absurd facial hair the man was sporting. He sighed and shook his head, taking a step back from the door before adding, "are you just going to stand there?"

Bucky and Loki exchanged a look and crossed into the entryway of the suite. The living area tastefully decorated in cream and gold was just visible through the doorway from where they stood, the sound of a news report playing audible within. The place looked like it must be huge.

The consultant set the device in his hand down on the mahogany side table and turned back to face them. "Coulson told me about your little upgrade," he said to Bucky. "May I?"

He'd grabbed Bucky's hand and was holding it up for inspection before Bucky could even react. "Impressive piece of hardware," he said, turning Bucky's arm over and pushing up the sleeve of his jacket to study his forearm while Bucky shot Loki a helpless glance. He wasn't sure whether he should punch the guy or let him continue. "Joins at the shoulder, I presume? Controlled by the nerve endings – electrical impulses around the point of amputation, maybe, if the technology has advanced to that point yet." He glanced up to meet Bucky's eyes, apparently remembering himself then. "And you can probably kill me with this thing, can't you?"

"Coulson asked me not to," he replied as the man let go of Bucky's arm and he lowered it to his side again. It was easy to see now why Coulson had felt compelled to make that request.

"That was good of him." He moved a safe distance from Bucky and turned his calculating gaze to Loki. "Well after that, you don't seem threatening at all."

Bucky felt the tiny shift in the air before he noticed the quirk of Loki's lips. He'd experienced it enough times to recognise it, and sure enough, Loki's immobile form started to change. Bucky had never seen his true appearance in the light before. It made his red eyes more vibrant, the blue creeping across his skin almost sapphire instead of the dark shade it had looked the other times Bucky had seen it, though he didn't have a chance to really take in the sight before it had disappeared again.

The consultant blinked, eyes wide, but that was his only discernible reaction. "I asked for that," he said. "Let's get to it, then, shall we? I don't have all day." He strolled back into the main room, leaving Loki and Bucky standing together in stunned silence in his wake.

"I don't like him," Loki said after a second.

"Coulson said he could help."

Loki's eyes flicked back to Bucky full of scepticism and Bucky shrugged in response. He didn't feel much more confident himself. But Coulson surely wouldn't have put them in contact with the man if he couldn't be of some help to them, so Bucky braced himself and followed after him.

His estimates about the suite had been accurate. Just the main room was bigger than the apartment Bucky had grown up in, though he was too distracted by the computer screens seemingly floating weightless in the air above the coffee table to really marvel at the splendour of the room. He couldn't even begin to imagine how that was possible.

"So who are you?" Bucky said once he'd torn his eyes away from the screens to turn to the consultant making himself comfortable on one of the room's plush couches.

He looked back at Bucky with surprise. "Tony Stark," he answered, as if there was some meaning to that Bucky should be aware of. When Bucky didn't react, he tilted his head, a small smile on his lips as he added, "it's been a while since I met anyone who didn't already know who I am."

"Should we?"

"A man like you has probably had his hands on Stark Industries-designed weapons more than once."

"Stark Industries..." Bucky said, his eyebrows knitting together into a thoughtful frown. He knew Stark had looked faintly familiar for some reason. "I used to know Howard Stark."

Something flashed in his mind, slipping away again as he tried to focus on it, but before he could wrack his brain to try and remember he caught Loki watching him with a curious expression. He smiled to reassure him and turned his attention back to Stark. It was probably nothing. It could wait.

"Huh. I don't remember him ever mentioning an overly stoic guy with a mechanical arm." Stark gestured to the loveseat adjacent to his couch and Bucky and Loki sat. "Coulson didn't say much over the phone," he continued. "Something about an assassination; possible SHIELD involvement?"

"He claims you're the man to locate any records SHIELD would not wish to be discovered," Loki said. He didn't sound convinced.

Stark's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Loki's face. "You don't trust him?"

"We're not exactly sure who we can trust," Bucky replied, and Stark nodded in understanding.

"You don't need to worry about Coulson," he said. "SHIELD is shady as hell even if they are supposed to be the good guys, but Coulson's too boring to ever be up to anything he shouldn't. Just take a look at him. If he so much as thought about breaking a rule he'd break out in a nervous sweat and go running to Director Fury begging for forgiveness."

That was something of a relief, then. If Stark was no fan of SHIELD's, it made sense he'd be willing to help them. And if he trusted Coulson, hopefully that meant they could, too. Loki still looked a little cynical when Bucky glanced across at him, but his expression wasn't quite as cold as it had been, which was progress.

"So, digging up SHIELD's dirty little secrets." Stark clapped his hands together almost gleefully as he spoke. "Sounds like fun."

"Any ideas how to do that?"

"One," he replied. He looked back at them with a roughish grin.

This couldn't be good.


	7. Chapter 7

"I'm not sure I like this plan."

They were in the bedroom of Stark's suite, Bucky sliding the weapons littering the mattress into their respective holsters across his body while Loki stood at the foot of the enormous bed, hands on his hips as he stared down at the suit laid out on the mattress between them. It was a nice suit – probably cost more money than Bucky had spent on clothes in his lifetime – yet Loki eyed it warily.

A smile tugged at Bucky's mouth. "Is that because it's a bad idea or because it's Stark's idea?" he said.

"Both, perhaps," replied Loki as he started to slip out of the clothes he was wearing.

"So if I was the one who'd said we should sneak into SHIELD's headquarters and steal their files, you'd be on board?"

Put like that, it did sound like a monumentally stupid plan, though Stark was confident it would work. And since this was the only way they could get the access to SHIELD's records they needed so badly, Bucky was more willing to put his faith in Stark than he might have been otherwise. They'd need a stroke of luck for it to work, but surely they were long past due for one by now. Bucky could stay hopeful.

Loki shrugged with a little less grace than his usual movements, his hands occupied unzipping his pants. "I have far more faith in you not leading us into danger than I do Stark," he said casually while he tossed his trousers onto the pile of discarded clothes on the bed.

In the morning light that bathed the room, Loki wasn't nearly as scrawny as he'd first seemed back on Jotunheim. He was certainly slight, though clearly he was built for speed rather than brute strength. Bucky was pretty darn fast himself, yet with his bulkier frame he could never match the fluidity Loki managed in his movements. And still Loki's body was made up of taut muscle. Toned arms; a well-defined stomach; strong thighs. Maybe he would have been a match for Bucky, if the two had come to blows when they'd first met.

Part of him was curious to find out before this was over.

Bucky's eyes flicked back up to meet Loki's gaze before he replied. "You forgetting about the time I got us jumped by a half dozen SHIELD agents last week?" he said.

Loki wasn't the least bit concerned by the memory. "That was a mess we were fully capable of escaping. I think a building full of SHIELD agents will pose something more of a challenge – especially without our strongest fighter present." He arched an eyebrow to punctuate that last comment.

They'd all agreed – however reluctantly on Loki's part – that it was best if Bucky only acted as backup, staying out of sight unless the pair landed into trouble inside the building. Bucky had suspected Loki was still sulking about that, despite understanding the reasons behind their decision. Maybe he just didn't want to be left alone with Stark. It was a reasonable position.

"I go in with you guys and you'll definitely get caught," Bucky said, perching on the edge of the mattress as Loki let out a tiny huff, his final act of protest before they went ahead with the plan. He reached forward for the silk tie folded atop Loki's shirt before Loki could disturb the neat pile to grab his trousers, and slid the cool fabric between his fingers while Loki stepped into the pants. They fitted him perfectly. "Besides, you look more the part. A thug in a business suit would probably catch a few people’s eyes."

"You're hardly a thug, Bucky."

No, the Winter Soldier was something much, much worse.

Bucky didn't voice that thought, though. He wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore – at least, that was what he'd been telling himself. That if he tried, he could be regular old Bucky Barnes again. He was slowly starting to believe it. "Well I sure don't look like I belong in SHIELD HQ," he said instead.

As he spoke, he scratched at the thick stubble covering the lower half of his face, his hair falling from where it had been tucked messily behind his ear with the movement. He could really do with cleaning himself up. Once upon a time, he'd have been ashamed to let himself get in such a state, though he had bigger things on his mind than personal grooming at the moment. "Anyway," he added, "Stark might not be completely useless in a fight, if it came to that."

Loki smirked. "I imagine he's quite adept at annoying people until they go away."

That raised a chuckle from Bucky, though the laugh was short-lived. Stark had been generous enough to let them stay with him, and was helping the pair without reward; he deserved more respect than they were giving him. Even if he was one of the most obnoxious people Bucky had ever met.

"It has been peaceful here without him," he admitted. Perhaps it was because he and Loki had had more time to get used to each other than they had to Stark, but there had been a tranquillity during the few days Stark had been back in California that just wasn't there the days he'd been around. Bucky and Loki just seemed to fit. There was comfort, familiarity, in each other's presence.

Loki hummed his agreement and glanced around the lavish room appreciatively while he buttoned his shirt. "I could grow accustomed to living like this."

"Yeah." Bucky wouldn't resent that himself. Even sleeping on Stark's couch was more comfortable than anywhere else he could remember being. "Too bad it's a little ways out of our price range."

Loki turned to face Bucky head on once he'd slipped into his jacket, arms out to show himself off and eyebrows raised in question. "You look good," Bucky said with a smile. He stood and rounded the bed to drape the tie in his hand around Loki's neck. "People probably won't even notice you. Stark kinda draws the attention, you know?"

"Let's hope he doesn't draw too much attention," replied Loki while Bucky smoothed the fastened tie against Loki's pale blue shirt. His chest was firm beneath Bucky's hand. Bucky quickly pulled away and stepped back, letting Loki give himself an approving once-over in the floor length mirror behind them as Stark appeared in the doorway.

"Well don't you look respectable?" he said. He was dressed in a similarly expensive-looking suit, the light from the device in his chest – an arc reactor, he'd called it when Bucky had questioned why there was a glowing piece of metal embedded in his body – shining faintly through the fabric of his shirt. "You boys ready?"

***

'The Triskelion' was a suitably imposing name for the structure tearing from the landscape before them. Loki had seen countless buildings bigger than he'd have imagined possible in his short time on Earth, though he hadn't yet grown weary enough of the sight to be unimpressed by the gleaming white cylinder towering over the river. Even as they disappeared beneath the building to pull into a parking space Loki took in everything around him with interest, until Bucky's voice sounded behind him.

"So how exactly are you going to get your hands on SHIELD's files?" he said to Stark.

"With this." Stark reached a hand into his pocket and retrieved a tiny metal disc, balancing it in the palm of his hand while Bucky and Loki leant forward to get a closer look. The pride on his face hardly seemed warranted.

"You spent the last four days creating this?" Loki shot Stark a cynical glance as he spoke. It was hardly the awestruck reaction Stark looked to be expecting, though Loki couldn't fathom how the disc was supposed to be of any use to them, let alone how someone with Stark's supposed level of intellect could take so long to create something so miniscule.

"I spent the last four days creating this while simultaneously trying to run a company and making sure the two of you weren't getting captured or killing anyone from clear across the country," he replied, exasperation heavy in his tone. "Now ordinarily I'd expect people to be astounded by my incredible talent for multitasking, but since it's clear you were both raised by wolves, I'll let it slide."

"How does it work?" Bucky said.

"Once we're inside, I plant this somewhere out of sight, and JARVIS starts breaking into SHIELD's system while Loki and I skip merrily on out of there. By the time we're safely back at the hotel, we'll have access to everything."

"Okay," Loki said grudgingly, "that is impressive."

"Damn right it is," replied Stark, stowing the device away again before turning back to Bucky. "We get into trouble, we'll send up the bat signal."

Loki frowned in confusion, though before he could raise the question Bucky echoed his thoughts. "'The bat signal?'"

It earned them an overwrought eye roll from Stark in response. "Pop culture reference," he explained. "E.T. here–" he jerked his head in Loki’s direction as he spoke "– I understand, but what's your excuse?"

"I'm 93 years old."

"Was that time spent in a cultureless void?" Bucky replied with a helpless shrug and Stark sighed. "If anything happens, JARVIS will let you know so you can bust in and save our asses. Got it?"

"Got it."

With that, Loki and Stark slid from the car and headed towards the elevators. A mere second or two after they'd stepped inside, the doors opened to deposit the pair in the building's lobby; clean and bright, glass walls streaming light across the cavernous room. Yet another example of how far humanity had come in the few short centuries since his kind had last observed them. Even given another thousand years, Jotunheim could never surpass the advancements Earth had made. They'd be living in hollowed out rocks in the darkness for eternity.

Loki sighed as he followed Stark across the lobby. He had always imagined that the other realms would have far more to offer than his own, though now he'd experienced just a tiny fraction of it for himself, his existence on Jotunheim felt even more miserable than it had before.

Stark came to a stop in front of a long white desk, a number of smartly dressed people sat behind its length, though he ignored them all in favour of the young woman before him. "Mr. Stark," she said with a toothy smile despite the surprise in her tone. "Back again so soon?"

"I just couldn't keep away," he replied smoothly. Loki glanced away from the shameless display of flirtation as Stark leant forward over the desk to shorten the distance between him and the apparent object of his affections. He could only hope there was some point to this other than Stark being distracted by his libido. Being bound to Stark's room for days, Loki and Bucky had found swathes of information on the evidently world-renowned Stark readily available, and his reputation didn't inspire confidence. He seemed more famous for his sordid personal life than his work.

Loki's gaze passed over the other people making their way through the room. None of them were looking their way, all too busy with their own concerns to pay him and Stark any mind. It was a trait many of the humans he'd witnessed shared, and one that was certainly welcome after a lifetime of having his every move met with furtive glances or outright hostility. It was something he'd miss upon his return home. One of many things.

His eyes had just flicked to the elevators, Stark's car hidden away somewhere beneath them, when Stark was at his side again. "Fury's in a meeting across town," he said as he led Loki back towards the elevators, though when they reached them he pressed the button to take them higher into the building rather than down to rejoin Bucky. "Won't be back in his office until this afternoon."

So that had been the purpose of Stark's flirtation. A grin stretched across Loki's face with the realisation. He had underestimated the man. "Well that was devious of you," he said.

"There's nothing devious about a pleasant conversation with a beautiful woman."

"Oh, of course not."

Once they stepped from the elevator into a quiet corridor, Stark beckoned to a nearby doorway and the pair ducked inside, finding themselves standing in a large room overlooking the river and city beyond. It had the same clean lines as downstairs, though even with sunlight still filling the space there was something colder and more utilitarian to the room.

"It'd be nice if we could lock this thing," Stark said, and Loki turned to see him glance from the door to the couch beside it, judging whether or not it would serve as a suitable barricade, presumably.

He shooed Stark out of the way with a curt, "move," as ice crept from his fingers closing around the doorknob. Stark stayed in place beside him, watching with curiosity. "I believe you have something to be doing."

"You're not going to trap us in here, are you?" he said with a frown on his face, though he moved away to reach the desk and computer sitting atop it as he spoke.

Loki didn't deign to acknowledge that question with a response. Instead he shook the remnants of ice from his hand as he peered through the glass pane in the door in search of anyone who might pass by, before crossing the room to join Stark, stood tapping at something on the phone in his hand.

"JARVIS," he said, "you with us? How're we doing?"

A clipped voice sounded from the phone. _"Good morning, sir. I will have access to SHIELD's database within moments."_

"Excellent. Once you're in, start running decryption and scrub any trace of us from the security feeds."

_"Yes, sir."_

Stark set his phone down on the desk and gave the room a thorough assessment while Loki turned back to glance out into the corridor. There was the sound of quiet conversation outside, growing louder until a group of people rounded the corner and neared the office. If they weren't paying close attention, the frozen doorknob and shadows moving within the room would go unnoticed. If they were...

"Don't you just want to snoop around in here?" Stark said from behind him.

"Perhaps next time. How much longer is this going to take?"

"Almost done."

Loki pressed himself against the wall to hide from view as the party grew closer, but to his relief, they didn't slow down. His eyes stayed fixed on them until they had passed into the elevator at the end of the hall, just as Stark's phone made a sharp beeping sound.

"There; we're in." Stark slid his phone into his pocket and glanced up at Loki. "Let's go then, shall we?"


	8. Chapter 8

He should have asked Stark to leave the radio on.

Bucky slumped lower in his seat, unconcerned about the dirt his boots were leaving on the expensive leather, and dug his silent phone from his pocket to check for a message he already knew wouldn't be there. Sure enough, no-one had tried to contact him in the 90 seconds since he'd last checked. He'd drive himself insane if he kept this up, yet it was still better than sitting in the silent car staring at nothing until Loki and Stark returned.

Stark had said they'd be in and out in ten minutes. It was coming up to fifteen now. There could be any number of perfectly reasonable explanations for that – and running five minutes late was nothing; they'd probably come striding back across the parking lot any moment now – but still, Bucky was growing antsy.

He huffed again and shifted to make himself comfortable, and as he did so he spotted a man pause on his way from his own car, staring hard at Bucky through the rear windshield while a frown dawned on his face.

Bucky cursed under his breath.

He knew he should have stayed back at the hotel. Loki and Stark would have to end up in some serious trouble if Loki couldn't get them out of it alone – they weren't going to need Bucky's help. He might just be in need of theirs, though. The man hadn't made any attempt to close the thirty feet of distance between them, he and Bucky just watching each other across the garage until the man pulled a cell phone from his pocket. The moment his eyes left Bucky to glance down at the phone, Bucky's gaze flicked over the space. There were too many people around, none looking his way yet, but they undoubtedly would be the moment the man made his move.

While he was still distracted making his frantic phone call, Bucky slid from the car and headed away from the crowd towards the lower level of the garage. Hopefully it would be quieter down there. Most of the noise echoing off the concrete was coming from behind him – including a set of footsteps rapidly growing closer. Bucky picked up his pace, walking as fast as he could to get some distance on the man without arousing suspicion, while he patted his pockets for his phone to call Stark.

It wasn't there. Crap.

Well it was too late to turn back to the car and retrieve it. There was another agent jogging from the elevators to catch up with the one still striding after Bucky when he glanced at the reflection in a nearby car's windshield; three more following not far behind. They were all wearing the same uniforms Bucky's handlers wore. And they were all armed.

But they couldn't kill him. He was the asset – they needed to bring him in alive. That meant incapacitating shots only, which gave Bucky something of an advantage, even if he was reluctant to have a repeat of last week's carnage. He'd kill them if he had no other choice, but they could only try to subdue him. And no way was he going to make it easy for them.

There was a concrete wall lining the ramp down to the next level, low enough for Bucky to easily slip over and jump down to the empty parking space beside it. To his relief, there didn't seem to be anyone wandering about in the nearby area. He ducked between two cars and waited, listening for the echo of footsteps coming down the ramp.

"Fan out," a gruff voice sounded after a moment.

That was a small mercy. Things would go a lot smoother being able to take them on one by one. Bucky might even be able to get the drop on them without being noticed at all. He peered under the car beside him to see the first pair of boots approaching.

The man was just rounding the car when Bucky launched into action. Without a sound he sprung to his feet and wrapped his arm tightly across the man's neck, a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet as Bucky dragged him out of sight.

One down.

Bucky lowered the unconscious body to the ground carefully and crept between the rows of cars to find his next target. He managed to stay silent and out of sight for a surprisingly long time, taking out three of the five men before the others spotted him. But the instant they did, stealth was well and truly out of the window.

Flashing lights and alarms filled the room as one of the men jumped onto the roof of a car some fifty feet away, his gun ready the moment he could get the shot he needed. It would take a lot of bullets to slow Bucky down, but still, the best plan of action was definitely the one that involved him getting shot as few times as possible. He dived behind an SUV, its blacked-out windows hopefully providing some extra cover, and slid his knife from its holster on his thigh.

Now this would be a lot easier if the car alarm wasn't drowning out any sound of approaching footsteps. Bucky glanced under the cars again. No sign of the other agent. Damn it. He'd just have to risk it.

He took a deep breath and jumped to his feet to hurl his knife at the man still atop the car. From the shout of pain and the crash of a body falling against metal that followed, Bucky had landed an incapacitating shot of his own, though before he could make sure he'd hit his target, a fist came from his blind spot and collided with his face.

Holy crap, that smarted.

Bucky staggered back into the car behind him, his lip throbbing and warm blood trickling towards his chin, but he was still attentive enough to dodge the foot flying at his stomach. It went into the car door instead, hard enough to dent the metal and set off another wave of obnoxious screeching. That sound was going to be echoing through Bucky's head for hours.

"What do you think you're doing?" the man said as he dropped back into a fighting stance, ready to lunge at Bucky at any moment. "We're on the same side here."

"Not anymore."

He launched himself forward and Bucky moved just enough to keep the man from barrelling straight into him, closing his fingers around the straps crossed over the man's chest and using his speed to slam him hard into the side of the car. He was still conscious, barely, when he hit the floor. A boot to the head took care of that easy enough.

There was no time to celebrate his victory, though. The rest of the men would be regaining consciousness soon, and the cacophony was sure to have caught people's attention, so Bucky hurried across the room to the other agent, slumped against the wall, Bucky's knife embedded in his shoulder. Bucky snatched it up and made his way back to Stark's car.

The moment he'd climbed back up to the main level Loki's head emerged over the vehicles filling the garage. He was already standing beside Stark's car, scouring the area with a frown etched deep enough on his face that Bucky could see it from where he stood. It washed away in an instant when he laid eyes on Bucky approaching.

"What happened?" Loki said as he strode forward to meet him. His eyes flicked to Bucky's split lip and his fingers followed, sending a sharp sting along Bucky's nerves.

"Welcome party. Nothing I couldn't handle." Loki nodded and glanced back at the few people heading towards the elevators somehow completely unconcerned by the din of alarms echoing through the garage. From this distance none of them would notice Loki's thumb had turned a deep shade of blue and was beginning to collect tiny ice crystals as it brushed along Bucky's bottom lip, though the two of them stood so close was pretty conspicuous. Besides, soothing though Loki's touch was, getting far away from the Triskelion as quickly as possible was a little more urgent.

"Any fatalities?"

"Nope," Bucky said with a smile as he pulled back from Loki's hand.

Loki didn't share his happiness. His frown was back in place when he spoke again. "Was that wise, keeping them alive?" He eyed the entrance to the lower level, his mouth settling into a thin line. Bucky could tell what he was thinking already.

"Maybe not. But we'll deal with it." There were enough ghosts in Bucky's head already; he wasn't giving them more company unless it was absolutely unavoidable. "Come on." He gave Loki's arm a gentle tug as he took a step towards Stark waiting for them, before Loki could head off to finish the job Bucky hadn't been able to.

"So," said Stark when Bucky and Loki had rejoined him, "time for a hasty getaway?"

 

He'd expected to be followed back from the Triskelion – or for SHIELD to have at least stopped them at the security point on the bridge as they sped away – but it seemed they'd managed to get out before anyone could raise the alarm. Even so, Bucky spent their entire journey back to the hotel peering through the rear window for any sign of a car trailing them. He didn't stop scanning their surroundings in search of anything out of the ordinary until they were safely back inside the suite.

"Wake up," Stark said to no-one in particular as he strolled into the main room, but before Bucky could question it the computer screens flickered to life. "JARVIS, what have we got?"

_"Decryption 100% complete, sir."_

The nerves Bucky had hardly even been aware he'd had eased a little at that announcement. There were so many things for him to worry about at any given moment he'd apparently grown accustomed to the knot in his stomach, though it was a welcome change to be free of it for a time. They had access to SHIELD's database. It had all been worth it.

As long as the answers they needed were in SHIELD's files.

Stark looked back at Bucky. "Where do you want to start?"

"See if you can find anything on the Winter Soldier."

He froze midway through loosening his tie to quirk an eyebrow. "Feeling a little self-indulgent, are we?" he said. "What, no luck Googling yourself?"

Honestly, it was like he was speaking another language half the time. Bucky hadn't had a mind for anything but his missions as the Winter Soldier, though the modern world was hardly alien to him, and he still couldn't understand a word that left Stark's mouth.

"What in God's name is Googling?" he said.

"Really?" Tony's searching gaze flicked from Bucky to Loki stood at his shoulder. They both stared back at him blankly. "Forget it," he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Okay; Winter Soldier. There any particular reason?"

"Killing Laufey was a Winter Soldier mission. If the order came from someone within SHIELD, there might be some record of it."

"Do you think SHIELD may have information on the birth of the Winter Soldier?" Loki said to him.

He hadn't thought of that possibility. It stood to reason SHIELD would have investigated some of his previous missions – nothing Bucky particularly wanted to revisit, but probably a useful thing to look over at some point nonetheless. Though Bucky's handlers had to work for SHIELD; perhaps whatever records there were of the Winter Soldier's creation had been passed over as well when he'd ended up in their hands after the fall of HYDRA.

"You're looking for information on your origins?"

"I still have no idea what exactly HYRDA did to me or why." He didn't need to elaborate further than that. Stark nodded in understanding before turning back to the computers.

"JARVIS, anything?"

_"I have found some two dozen reports of assassinations suspected of being the work of one Codename: Winter Soldier, a number of others with varying degrees of validity, and this–"_ a series of official-looking reports and black and white photographs filled the screens _"–which I thought you may wish to see."_

"Good job," Stark said as they each stepped forward for a closer look. He squinted at a small circular symbol in the top corner of one of the files. It was stamped on most of the pages Bucky could see. "I've seen this before."

So had Bucky.

"HYDRA."

An old photo caught his gaze and he stared, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. It was him; hardly recognisable with his hair shorn and his left arm nothing but a stump, but still undeniably him. He was lying on an operating table in a room he almost remembered, dark stained bandages covering his arm and a tray of instruments he didn't want to look at too carefully placed beside him.

"Coulson said HYDRA fizzled out after Johann Schmidt died," he said absently.

"Apparently it kept fizzling for quite a while – look at the dates on these files... Why would SHIELD have access to this?"

Whether Stark's question was rhetorical or not, Bucky didn't answer, too distracted scanning the reports. His brain struggled to process the words, but the passages that did stand out were bad enough:

_...Though we now have a live subject, there appears to be considerable brain damage... He is nearly a blank slate, but an incredibly dangerous one..._

_...It was our own experiments in mental implantation during sensory deprivation that provided the breakthrough. And because of the American's memory loss, it was quite simple. We were able to reprogram the American's mind._

_We gave him a purpose, and we made him loyal to no-one but us._

Well, he'd wanted to know what they'd done to him. He never would learn, would he?

He stepped back from the screens, as if the information they contained, the pictures of himself being twisted into HYDRA's greatest weapon, weren't already burnt into his brain, waiting for him when he closed his eyes. Luckily he was close enough to the couch that the cushions caught him when he dropped down and sank his chin forward into his waiting palms. It was only then, sitting there with cold fingers pressed against his lips, that he realised just how normal feeling metal instead of skin was to him. That was probably for the best – there was no bringing his old arm back, after all, so what good would it do being sickened by the one he had? – but in that moment, the thought wasn't a comforting one.

Something brushed Bucky's shoulder and he flinched before realising it was just Loki's hand. He didn't say a word, though Bucky didn't need him to. He relaxed into the touch, and glanced up at Loki with as much of a smile as he could muster when Loki gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. His eyes were still fixed on the screens, his jaw tense.

_"Sir,"_ JARVIS said, breaking the horrified silence that had settled in the room, _"Agent Coulson is on the line."_

_"Tell me you found something,"_ he said by way of greeting as soon as he was patched through.

"Good morning to you, too," replied Stark. "We've found a whole lot more than something."

As he spoke more and more reports flashed across the screen, all stamped with that same symbol, and all from the decades after HYDRA had supposedly been disbanded. Bucky didn't read much more than the dates. He caught the words Codename: Winter Soldier more than a few times, though that was enough to discourage him from reading on. He couldn't face any more discoveries about his past today.

_"From your tone I take it I won't like what I'm about to hear."_

"Why are there HYDRA files on SHIELD's servers?"

_"We have all the SSR's records archived,"_ Coulson started, but Stark cut him off, shaking his head despite the fact Coulson couldn't see the gesture while he spoke.

"This isn't SSR. We're looking at decades' worth of reports here."

_"How is that possible?"_

Stark paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he stood eyeing the reports flicking across the screens. "What about Zola?"

Bucky had been too lost in his own thoughts to really take much interest in Stark and Coulson's conversation, but that one name was enough to snap him back to full attention. "Zola?" he said as he sat forward, Loki's hand dropping away from his shoulder. What did Zola have to do with SHIELD?

"He was a HYDRA scientist," explained Stark. "SHIELD recruited him after the war."

They had to be kidding.

"Who the hell thought that was a good idea?" Geez, how could anyone be surprised HYDRA had lived on when they'd given Zola a cushy job instead of a prison cell?

"Is this really a concern to us at the moment?" Loki interrupted before Bucky's rage could boil over.

"I'm feeling pretty concerned."

_"No, Loki's right, Tony,"_ Coulson said. _"If HYDRA has been growing within SHIELD... that's something we'll need to look into as soon as we can. But our priority right now is Jotunheim. Did you find anything?"_

Bucky had been so blindsided by the HYDRA files they'd uncovered he'd almost forgotten about Jotunheim. It seemed he wasn't the only one.

"Right," Stark said, shaking his head a little as if to knock his thoughts clear. "JARVIS?"

Two new reports flickered up onto the screens, both HYDRA, and both recent. Within the last month, recent. Bucky didn't manage to give the second file more than a quick scan; he was too absorbed reading the first. It was the order to have Bucky thawed from cryogenic stasis – and that explained the huge gaps in time between missions he hadn't been able to account for – and sent to Jotunheim.

So the hit on Laufey had come from SHIELD. Or at least a HYDRA agent within SHIELD, with enough power to give the order. That should narrow the list down a bit, if only they had a way of finding out who the double agents inside SHIELD were. Was it too much to hope they'd find a roll call list somewhere among HYDRA's files?

"What is this," Bucky said, interrupting Stark filling Coulson in on what they were looking at, "'Phase 2.' It's mentioned a few times."

_"Phase 2?"_ There was recognition in Coulson's voice.

"You've heard of it?"

_"Phase 2 was an array of weapons powered by energy from the Tesseract."_

The Tesseract. Bucky rolled his eyes. First HYDRA and now this? Seventy years later he was still dealing with the same old crap.

"HYDRA used the Tesseract to create weapons during the war," he said. "It was nasty stuff."

Stark frowned, though he didn't look remotely surprised by the news. He hadn't been kidding about SHIELD being shady. Maybe Bucky and Loki should end their search with SHIELD and let Laufey wipe out the entire organisation. "So SHIELD's making weapons of mass destruction now? Nice to see you boys are branching out."

_"Not anymore we aren't. The project was shelved before it even made it to the prototype stage. We didn't have a threat big enough to warrant that level of force – it's not every day gods come to Earth and start destroying small towns. What I don't understand is what any of this has to do with Jotunheim."_

"I think I may have some idea," Loki said, stepping forward from his place at Bucky's side and tapping at the screen displaying the second report. Bucky and Stark followed to read the passage beside Loki's finger:

_Three days past estimated mission completion time; still no contact from Codename: Winter Soldier. Rigorous testing post-stasis revealed no signs of potential mental instability, thus it is most likely the asset has been captured or killed in action._

_Despite this, there is still a possibility Codename: Winter Soldier's mission was a success. Continue preparations for counter strike._

"If there was no threat that would warrant the force of Tesseract-fuelled weapons," Loki said, "perhaps SHIELD decided to create one."

"They'd risk a war just to put Phase 2 back into production?" Stark said in disbelief.

Bucky was having a hard time believing it as well, until a thought struck him. "It wouldn't be much of a war though, would it?" he said as he glanced at Loki. Loki knew exactly where Bucky's train of thought was going. He watched Bucky expectantly while Bucky continued. "At least, SHIELD – or HYDRA; whoever's behind this – wouldn't think so. Coulson, you said SHIELD knows the frost giants are near enough powerless?"

_"Yes."_

"Laufey expects your kind to fight with spears and arrows still," Loki said. "Jotunheim's forces aren't nearly enough to contend with the advances you have made over the centuries. I imagine Earth could emerge victorious even without Asgard's aid."

Bucky nodded. "They're probably expecting a few thousand human casualties, max. And in return, they get a grudge match between two alien races on our soil, and a perfect excuse to get Phase 2 up and running again."

"A few thousand casualties is nothing to an organisation like SHIELD or HYDRA," Stark said. "They're very much 'big picture' guys. God, just when you think Nick Fury won't stoop any lower."

_"This wasn't Fury, Stark,"_ Coulson said. _"If he was HYDRA, I'd know. He probably would have had me join their ranks as well long before now. Besides, the entire World Security Council is pushing for advancements in Phase 2. Any one of them could be behind this."_

But there wasn't much they could do to rule out any more names. Maybe there'd be some information they could find in HYDRA's files that would help, though Bucky wasn't hopeful. And anyway, a handful of targets was better than letting Laufey launch an attack on the entire planet. As far as he and Loki were concerned, this was the end of their mission. It was time for them to head back to Jotunheim.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there's been a bit of a wait for this chapter; writer's block is a bitch.

Bucky had thought he'd be happier at this point. That not even the sharp winds biting at his cheeks or the snow melting on his trousers, soaking icy water through to his skin, would dampen the relief he'd feel as he and Loki trekked from Jotunheim's mountains towards the citadel. He hadn't expected to feel this miserable instead.

His feet dragged through the snow, as if the pit in his stomach was weighing his entire body down, and with each step he fell further behind Loki until he was little more than a vague dark shape in the gloom. Loki didn't stop to wait for him. He'd barely said a word to Bucky since they'd set off that morning, hadn't so much as glanced in his direction all day. He'd just kept staring forward, eyes fixed on anything and everything that wasn't Bucky, his shoulders slumped and mouth grim.

Maybe he was simply caught up in his own thoughts. Or maybe now it looked like Loki could get back to his old life without fear of Asgard razing his future kingdom to the ground, Bucky had served his purpose.

Loki had said the only reason he had kept Bucky alive was because he'd been useful.

But things had changed since then, hadn't they? They'd certainly changed for Bucky, and he just couldn't bring himself to believe they hadn't for Loki as well. It wasn't just necessity keeping them together anymore. Not that it mattered. There wasn't anything keeping them together now. They'd done their job; Loki could go home.

Though as much as they'd managed to shorten the list of Laufey's targets, there were still plenty of people on it who probably had nothing to do with the attempted assassination. They could have waited a little longer, double-, triple-checked their commandeered files to try and sniff out HYDRA's members; anything to avoid giving innocent people a death sentence. But it would have just been stalling. There was nothing else they could do, not in the short time they had left, and Bucky was painfully aware of that. Stark had already been up night and day scouring SHIELD's records, trying to narrow the list down before Loki and Bucky had left for Jotunheim, without success. If there were more details about HYDRA out there, they weren't on SHIELD's servers.

And maybe condemning the entire World Security Council to die wouldn't have left such a nasty taste in Bucky's mouth if it didn't go hand in hand with Loki leaving. He'd known all along that their partnership was temporary, but as they'd grown closer more urgent matters had consumed his attention. It was only once they'd begun plotting their return to Jotunheim that the thought started nagging at him that this was the last he'd see of Loki. And it had turned into something much bigger than a niggle at the back of his mind in the days since. Loki was the closest friend he had left; Bucky wasn't ready to lose him yet.

Finally Loki slowed when they approached the tunnel that would lead them to the citadel, but still he didn't meet Bucky's eyes as he caught up, and still Bucky didn't break the silence between them. There was so much he should have said, yet he just couldn't find the words. Bucky owed him everything. Not just his life – he'd still be HYDRA's captive, lost inside his own mind, if not for Loki. There was nothing he could say or do to even begin to make up for what Loki had given him.

So instead they carried on without a word, eyes down as they climbed over the rubble of broken pillars, watching out for ice in the darkness. There were only a handful of the giant columns still standing now. As if Jotunheim wasn't bleak enough already. Bucky didn't want to know what would happen to the rock above when the last pillars crumbled – though from the state of them, it didn't look like they were doing much to support it anyway. Hopefully the tunnel would stay intact long enough for Bucky to get back through it again.

"What's going to happen once you give Laufey the names?" Bucky said at last.

"He'll order them dead, I imagine. He's not one for leniency."

That didn't spell good news for Bucky. Loki had been confident he would be able to talk Laufey into granting him a pardon, though given the level of esteem Laufey actually seemed to hold for his youngest, that belief was perhaps a little too idealistic for comfort. He could only hope Laufey would be too focused on getting his revenge against the World Security Council to spare a thought for him.

"Will you do it?"

"I doubt it," Loki said brusquely. "I've played my part already."

Bucky nodded and clenched his jaw. So that was that, then. "It won't be the same without you." That was one hell of an understatement. The thought of going back to Earth without Loki was downright depressing.

"You'll adjust."

He was probably right. And Bucky still had Stark and Coulson, at least, even if they didn't mean nearly as much to him as Loki did. Helping them track down the double agents within SHIELD would keep him busy for a while once this was over. It might even distract him from Loki's absence. The only problem was, Bucky didn't want to be distracted from Loki's absence. He didn't want Loki to be absent at all.

Bucky didn't have long to mope about it, though. As they pressed on further he started to hear it; strange noises carried on the wind, nothing he could really determine aside from the occasional rough voice, but it was getting louder with each step they took. His eyes flicked to Loki. He'd come to a stop, listening intently with a frown on his face.

"What is that?"

"I don't know," Loki said.

He met Bucky's eyes quickly before he carried on moving, more cautiously this time as they neared the end of the tunnel, and before they could step from the rock hiding them from view Loki's skin shifted back to its natural shade. The noise was loud enough to ring through Bucky's ears by this point.

They crept into the open space outside the citadel to find a bustle of activity.

Bucky had never seen so many frost giants. There were dozens of them; gathering supplies, barking orders to each other over the screeching grind of stone and metal, and forging what looked like some kind of crude armour from the brief glimpse Bucky caught. Loki looked stern while they approached the crowd, studying the commotion with an expression somehow even more dour than the one he'd been wearing all day. Whatever was going on, it couldn't be good.

But as busy as the area was, it wasn't hectic enough for the pair to go unnoticed. Red eyes flicked up to scrutinise them when Bucky and Loki slipped through the ranks, and just as they reached the entrance to the tower a guard blocked their path.

"Let us pass," Loki said. His tone left no room for argument.

The guard stood back with a scowl, the remark he'd evidently been itching to make at the sight of Loki silenced before it could fall from his lips, and Loki led Bucky inside. He stormed through the building until they reached a cavernous room, as dark inside as it was back out in the night, more frost giants stood between the once ornately carved pillars in the centre of the space.

"What is this?" Loki barked while he marched straight up to one of the creatures. He wore dull armour on his shoulders and forearms, another piece of the same ancient metal decorating his chest, and he turned to face Loki with contempt. That had to be Laufey.

"You are out of time," he said, and Bucky's stomach dropped.

If Loki's had done the same, there was no sound of it in his voice when he spoke, only quiet anger bubbling just beneath the surface. "The next moon is not for days."

"Our agreement changed while you were away."

A humourless smile spread across Loki's face. It looked like he'd been expecting something like this to happen. "So you march on Earth," he said, turning to follow Laufey when he carried on giving commands to the others, completely indifferent to Loki's presence. "Tell me, how did you manage to retrieve the Casket from Asgard? Because without it you'll be annihilated within moments."

Laufey rounded on his heel to tower over Loki fast enough to stop Loki in his tracks, but even while Bucky's hand instinctively reached to hover over the pistol on his thigh, Loki stared up at Laufey calmly. None of the other creatures in the room reacted – though they were hardly about to intervene should Laufey act on the violence that burned in his eyes. None of them would have any concern for Loki's safety.

"That's where you come in, half-breed," said Laufey. "All of your little untruths and secrets; do you think me fool enough to believe you have no idea where the path to Asgard lies?"

Loki's face went blank with ignorance. "I wish I could help you. But of all the secret paths, I have only ever found one."

Bucky had no idea if Loki was telling the truth or not, though Laufey didn't trust him for a second. "You think yourself one of them now?" he said, his voice low as his eyes flicked from Loki to Bucky and back to take in Loki's clothes. "Do you forget where your loyalties lie?"

"My loyalty is to Jotunheim, as it ever was. If we launch an attack on Earth, do you truly believe Asgard will do nothing to stop us? We will be destroyed."

"We will be restored. You know nothing of what it was like, boy, before the war. You know nothing of the power we once had. But you will. Tell me how to reach Asgard." Loki stayed silent, staring defiantly back at his father, and Laufey's lips quirked in amusement. "Very well. Take him to his chambers until he wishes to cooperate," he said to one of the other frost giants stood at his side while he moved to turn away.

"What of the Midgardian?"

Damn it. Bucky had gone ignored for so much of Laufey and Loki's conversation he'd assumed he was even less worthy of Jotunheim's attention than Loki. Perhaps he still was. Laufey did have a war to start; maybe he'd be content to just send Bucky back the way he'd come and hope the cold would kill him. He might even be able to find a way to get Loki out then, too.

Laufey's gaze passed to Bucky again, sheer apathy on his face while he thought for a moment. "Kill him."

Bucky just caught Loki's eyes flash as his attention shot to the creatures advancing on him. There were only two of them. He could take on two. More would come when he did, but he'd have to worry about that later. He closed his hand around his gun and aimed before they could take another step closer.

"You know what this is?" he said, nodding towards his hand while the other carefully slid to one of the grenades in his belt. It wouldn't do him any good in these close quarters, but he'd be able to hurl it across the room in the time it would take anybody to get to him. That should cause enough of a distraction for him and Loki to escape. "It kills your kind."

Loki was smirking when Bucky spotted him again between the bodies of the frost giants flanking them both. "Yes," he said to Laufey, "killing that one isn't quite as easy as you would think."

"Then lock them both away. We have bigger matters to concern ourselves with than the half-breed and his pet."

Enormous hands wrapped around Bucky's arms and shoved him after Loki as they were led from the room. He could have fought back – tight as the grip on Bucky's arms was, he'd be able to wrench himself free without too much difficulty. And without any backup, Bucky and Loki would have the upper hand over their guards quickly enough. They could be out of the tower and heading back to Earth long before Laufey even knew they were gone. But instead he followed Loki's lead, letting the guards manhandle him up flights of stairs and along cave-like hallways until they reached Loki's room.

He hit the ground at Loki's feet hard once the vice around his arms released and he was pushed roughly through the doors. They slammed shut behind him with a resonating bang.

"Do you know where the path is?" he said as he climbed to his feet. Though it wasn't really important whether Loki actually knew the way to Asgard or not; Laufey would never believe he didn't.

Loki shot him a sidelong glance that was somehow still condescending despite the obvious rage brewing inside him. Of course he knew. There hadn't been much point in asking.

"They'll make you talk."

"They'll get nothing from me," Loki replied. He gave the closed door one last glare before he began pacing the length of the room in swift steps that echoed off the walls.

"That's not what I'm worried about." If Loki just told them anything, maybe that would be enough. Surely there was no way to tell where the portal led until Laufey and his men stepped through it – Loki could send them anywhere. Unless Laufey saw that coming and had Loki take them to the portal himself. And if it didn't lead where it was supposed to...

Loki's strides came to a halt at Bucky's words and he closed his eyes, as if he could shut the rest of the world out with the action. He looked exhausted; even more so than Bucky felt. Neither of them could have slept in the last 48 hours. Bucky was used to it by now, waking haunted by his past every time he slipped into unconsciousness, though last night he'd never even managed to drift off, and the slow breathing that usually indicated Loki was asleep on the couch two feet away had been conspicuously absent.

It would be a while before either of them managed to get any rest now.

With a heavy sigh Loki opened his eyes again and glanced over at Bucky. "I knew you should have stayed on Earth." It was too late to be kicking themselves over decisions they hadn't made earlier, yet that wasn't about to stop Loki. At least it might diffuse some of his anger.

"You'd still be stuck here."

"I was stuck on Jotunheim long before I met you," he said. "You grow accustomed to it." He shook his head, and as he did so his eyes landed on the window and Bucky's gaze followed. Tiny snowflakes were drifting into the room on the breeze, just catching what little light there was as they floated to the ground. It would have been pretty if the view hadn't been ruined by the fact they were being held prisoner in a frozen wasteland. Again. "You don't belong here."

"You think you could have forced me to stay with Stark if I didn't want to?"

"Yes."

Thank God it had never come to that if Loki was right. Being sat around useless back on Earth, waiting for news that never would have come, while Loki was subjected to whatever ordeals they would put him through to get the information Laufey wanted from him? It didn't even bear thinking about.

Before Bucky could say anything else Loki crossed back towards the door and he turned to watch Loki press his ear against it. Their guards had to still be outside. There was no way they'd simply lock the two of them in Loki's room and leave them to their own devices. They'd be back out in seconds. Laufey may not have had any trace of respect for Loki, but he had to know what his son was capable of.

Sure enough, Loki scowled after a moment of quietly listening for sounds on the other side of the door, and he slapped his palm against the gnarled wood in frustration.

"What is this thing Laufey wants from Asgard?" Bucky said.

"The Casket of Ancient Winters." Loki's eyes flicked over to Bucky while he pushed himself away from the door to resume his pacing. "The source of our power. If he lays his hands on it, there'll be far more than a few thousand casualties before Asgard intervenes."

"Then we need to get there; warn them he's coming." Once they managed to find a way out of here, that was. Laufey would probably let Loki stew for a while before having him questioned, which would buy them a little time, but still, the sooner they got out, the better.

"Or we could simply let Laufey launch his attack," Loki said bitterly. "Perhaps Asgard's retaliation will obliterate this entire damned planet."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at the outburst. "I thought this whole plan was to keep Asgard from attacking Jotunheim."

Could Loki really do it, anyway; just sit back and let his home suffer Asgard's punishment? Regardless of his feelings towards Laufey, Loki had always had Jotunheim's best interests at heart. Until now, it seemed. And it was something of a surprise that this moment hadn't come much sooner.

"What do I owe Jotunheim?" he snapped as he rounded on Bucky, but his expression softened when he met Bucky's eyes. He sank back to rest against the windowsill, and when he spoke again the anger was gone from his voice. "Why should we put ourselves through this for Laufey, for any of them? This realm deserves to be destroyed."

"What about your throne?"

Loki scoffed. "Ah, what a throne it is. Who wouldn't want to rule over a barren rock filled with creatures who despise them?"

"You don't want it?" He crossed the room to join Loki as he sighed and glanced up at Bucky with uncertain eyes. That look shouldn't have sent a wash of relief through him. He'd hate himself for being so selfish later, but in that moment all he could do was hope Loki's crisis of confidence meant he'd decide to stay on Earth.

"For the longest time, it was all I ever wanted."

"And now?"

Loki's gaze stayed on Bucky for a moment, until finally he answered him by leaning forward and pressing his lips against Bucky's.

Bucky froze. It was such a soft touch and so unexpected he could have convinced himself it was an accident if Loki hadn't been too graceful to somehow slip and land his mouth on Bucky's. The fact that Loki had yet to pull away was also fairly compelling evidence against that theory. He melted into the kiss, his tongue meeting Loki's as if it was the most obvious thing in the world while Loki straightened and moved closer until there wasn't an inch of space between them. It wouldn't solve any of their problems, but it was a damn good distraction from them.

Everything dropped away; Laufey, Jotunheim, the almost 70 years of Bucky's life since the last time he'd been able to simply enjoy kissing someone. There was just him and Loki – and, God, it was him and Loki. This was hardly where he'd expected them to end up.

Maybe it was just a craving for the closeness he'd been missing for so long that had caused him to respond with the enthusiasm he did. But maybe not. He pushed his hips against Loki's, his fingertips brushing along Loki's cool cheekbone, though before the kiss could deepen any further, it ended as abruptly as it began.

Loki pulled back without warning. He was on the other side of the room by the time Bucky had caught himself, crouching to root through the supplies littering the floor and not about to offer any kind of explanation. He wouldn't even look back at Bucky while he searched for whatever it was he was after, and Bucky watched him silently, rubbing his thumb across his lip to wipe away the last trace of cold.

It may not have been an accident, but for Loki, it definitely seemed like their kiss had been a mistake.

Right. Bucky could understand that. They had far more important things to worry about than their own desires. People's lives were at stake if they couldn't keep Jotunheim from starting another war; the task was difficult enough without their closeness complicating matters. Bucky had a nasty suspicion it already had, though.

After what felt like long minutes of rummaging through boxes and glass vials, Loki made a triumphant noise. With his back still turned, Bucky couldn't see what he was doing – and he didn't expect to get much of an answer from Loki if he asked – though a foul stench soon wafted across the room while Loki made his way to the door, a bowl of dark paste in his hands. He smeared the mixture over the handles before tossing the bowl aside and quickly stepping back, and as Bucky watched the metal grew bright and began to sizzle.

"We'll need to act swiftly," Loki said, still focused on the door rather than Bucky. "They'll be inside the moment they realise something is amiss."

Bucky nodded, squinting against the acrid smoke stinging his eyes as it filled the room, and plucked a grenade from his belt again. There was a good chance the walls would come down with the blast, though he'd take the risk. With Loki apparently back to acknowledging Bucky's presence reluctantly at best, the thought of staying locked up on Jotunheim any longer was even less appealing than it had been before.

Flames licked at the wood around the molten handles, and heavy thuds shook the doors as their guards tried to get in to stop them. On the third bang the doors burst open, but before the creatures could get through the doorway, Bucky had tossed his grenade, pulling Loki down to take cover just in time to avoid the explosion.

He couldn't see a thing through the smoke when he opened his eyes. It filled his lungs, and he doubled over coughing until Loki's hand on his wrist dragged him up to pull him through the destroyed doorway and out into the corridor.

"Somebody will have heard that," Bucky said, his throat scratching at the attempt to speak, as they charged in the opposite direction from the way they'd been led to Loki's room. He had no idea if Loki had heard him – he hadn't even heard the words himself over the ringing in his ears – but either way they kept running.

They didn't slow down until they neared the base of the tower. Loki came to a sharp stop at an open doorway and slipped into the room, thankfully as empty inside as the rest of the halls they'd made their way through. And it was lucky he had, too; seconds after Loki had pushed the door shut behind them the sound of quickly moving footsteps echoed from the other side of the wall, no doubt heading towards Loki's ruined bedroom.

So much for them escaping without anybody noticing.

"This way," Loki said, striding across the long room to the windows. They were still a few storeys up, but the ground rose enough as it reached the tower for them to make the jump, and they slid down to the cracked stone at the bottom of the mound amidst a landslide of tiny rocks.

The sound of the frost giants still making their preparations was loud enough to drown out the skittering of pebbles hitting the floor. Judging from the noise, they couldn't be far from the entrance to the tower – and the mass of creatures who could spot them making their escape. Bucky grit his teeth as he and Loki climbed to their feet. This was the only chance they'd get to reach Asgard. They couldn't get caught now.

"How far is the portal?"

"Not far."

They crept through the shadows, still mindful to make as little noise as possible despite the din around them, and once they'd slipped far enough away from the citadel they broke into a sprint across the landscape. Bucky wasn't sure how long they ran before Loki came to a stop. The tower had long since disappeared from view, hidden by the edge of the deep valley they were making their way through, though it didn't take long for Bucky to find something a little more urgent to occupy his thoughts than the distance they'd travelled.

He hadn't thought anything of it at first. As Loki had jumped down into a nearby trench to try and find the exact location of the portal, there had been a low rumble of thunder in the distance. It wasn't until he heard the noise again seconds later that he realised it wasn't thunder, and it wasn't nearly as distant as he'd have liked it to be. The ground shuddered under a heavy footfall, and the sound of claws scraping against stone echoed off the rocks while Bucky spotted the light glinting off a pair of huge eyes in the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

The creature took another step out of the shadows and Bucky backed away, jumping down to join Loki without daring to take his eyes off the thing. It was bigger than anything Bucky had seen – even before it stretched to its full height, towering well above the opening to the cave it had crawled from as it let out another low growl that seemed to reverberate off of the rock surrounding them.

"Damn," Loki said, far more calmly than the situation really warranted. Because when you're a centuries old frost giant, colossal monsters that could probably swallow a person whole are apparently not much more than a simple annoyance. Maybe that meant the beast wasn't as nasty as it looked, though Bucky didn't have any wish to find out for sure one way or the other.

"No offense, Loki," he said, "but I hate this planet."

"Don't move. Don't make a sound."

"Why; can't it see us?"

"Well we'll soon find out." From the corner of his eye Bucky could see Loki shrug as he spoke.

That was helpful. Bucky would have rolled his eyes had he not been focused on the creature lumbering towards them. It wasn't moving particularly fast – Loki and Bucky couldn't have disturbed it too much, which hopefully gave them a chance, or bought them a little more time, at least – but there was no way Bucky would be able to take it out if it did charge for them. And they hadn't come this far just to become lunch before they managed to escape.

Bucky's gaze flicked across their surroundings, searching for something, anything, that might help them. Shooting at this thing would barely tickle, and they were too far out in the open to try and find somewhere to hide until the beast gave up and returned to its cave. Their only way out was through the portal, which Loki was still having no luck in finding. He cursed to himself as he pushed his hands against nothing time and again, while the creature moved closer, its head swinging from side to side scouring the valley as it picked up speed. It knew there was something here. It was only a matter of time before it spotted them.

Oh, they were so done for.

"If you've led us to the wrong place, Loki..." Well, they'd both be dead, so there wasn't much he could actually threaten Loki with. And so would a whole lot of other people, once Laufey found his way to Asgard without Loki's help.

"There's magic here; I can sense it," Loki said, frustration heavy in his tone. At least he was finally reacting appropriately to the situation. It had taken him long enough. "I just can't find the damned path."

Hot, rancid air gusted over them, drawing Bucky's attention back where it belonged, and the ground shook more and more with each step closer the beast took. It was still some twenty feet away yet already it loomed over them, and despite the futility of the gesture Bucky took another step back, reaching for the closest weapon he could find.

"Yes!"

Loki's hand clutched at Bucky's arm and spun him with a surprising amount of strength, and Bucky let his weight follow the momentum until he went tumbling into blinding light.

And kept tumbling.

Luckily he had just enough time before he hit the ground to avoid a particularly painful landing – but not by much. He crashed into a shallow stream, his left arm taking the brunt of the impact against the stones covering the bottom, though his ribs colliding with metal at full force hurt a damn sight more than landing on his right arm would have done. He groaned as he rolled onto his back and squeezed his eyes shut against the too-bright sunshine.

But before he could so much as think about getting up, there was a roar above him, loud yet still distant, and Bucky's eyes snapped open again to see Loki materialise and jump down to land gracefully on his feet beside him with a soft splash. He gazed down at Bucky and raised an eyebrow.

"I know," Bucky said as he climbed to his feet. The thought of the water still rushing around his shins was swiftly pushed to the very back of Bucky's mind when he looked around.

They were on an island among a small archipelago, the stream they stood in leading down into a calmly glistening sea that stretched between the surrounding hillsides, and in the distance the sunlight glinted off what had to be the towers of a vast city. Bucky wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting Asgard to look like, though it sure as hell wasn't this. It looked more like they'd stumbled into paradise than another alien world.

"Holy..."

"Not quite," Loki said as he moved past Bucky to climb out of the stream.

"Come on; admit it," Bucky replied, "you're impressed." He turned to Loki with a smile that faltered when he laid eyes on him.

Loki was staring up towards the gleaming structures so unlike anything Bucky had seen on Jotunheim, his eyes filled with wonder despite the unimpressed expression he was clearly fighting to keep on his face. He was even more mesmerised by the view than he had been when he'd first set foot on Earth.

It was understandable. Bucky was struggling to take it all in himself.

But it seemed he'd found a suitable distraction. His gaze slid from Loki's eyes to his lips parted ever so slightly, before they snapped back to the landscape stretching out around them the moment he caught himself staring, and he tried to steer his thoughts on target again.

Focus, Barnes, he told himself. They had bigger things to think about.

"How are we supposed to find the Casket?" he said as he scrambled out from the water, trying his best to ignore the way Loki bristled when Bucky brushed against him. Whatever head start they'd managed to get over Laufey, it would mean squat if they couldn't find the damn thing. They could be weeks wandering across Asgard in search for it, and something told him Laufey would know exactly where to find where it was kept once he reached Asgard.

"This way." Loki started making his way towards the bridge connecting to the mainland without bothering to offer any more information than that.

This was going to be a fun trip.

"Not that I'd mind just wandering around the countryside until we stumble across this thing," Bucky said while he followed Loki, "but do you actually have any idea where we're going?"

Loki stopped and turned back to face him. "Asgard must have a vault of some kind to house the most powerful artefacts the Aesir has stolen over the millennia." Once Bucky had caught up with him, Loki pointed at the shining golden spires in the distance. "It stands to reason we'll find it within the citadel."

Bucky nodded, though Loki didn't stick around for his reaction. He set off again, striding across the bridge and leaving Bucky stood alone in his wake. He sighed and headed after him. Loki was the one who'd kissed him; why the hell was Bucky the one being punished for it?

There was only one thing for it.

"So are we going to talk about it?" Bucky called.

"Talk about what?"

"You kissing me."

Loki paused again, his shoulders tensing enough for Bucky to see it from where he stood ten feet behind him. "It was nothing," he said brusquely and resumed his steps, his pace quicker this time.

It sure hadn't felt like nothing. Bucky bit the inside of his cheek as he stared after Loki trying to put as much distance between himself and the conversation as he could. There was no point pushing the subject. Loki was too stubborn to listen. And what would he even hope to achieve? That if he didn't let it go Loki would turn around and kiss him again? Five hours ago it would have never even occurred to him that there was more than friendship between him and Loki; it didn't make sense to start mooning over him now.

And maybe it had been nothing, just a product of Loki's frustration and the knowledge that it could have been the last time they ever saw each other. But Bucky had kissed his share of people, and as foggy as the memories were, he knew none of them had ever kissed him with the sheer need Loki had.

It had been more than just a desire for closeness. Loki had been hungry for him.

But there was nothing to be done about it now. If Loki was set on forgetting it had ever happened, Bucky needed to do the same. He just wished Loki didn't have to pretend he didn't exist to do it.

At least Bucky had the view to distract him from Loki. And what a view it was. As they headed across the countryside, the rolling hills gradually gave way to a sprawling city, somehow ancient and advanced all in one, and they slipped through the cobbled side streets until the citadel filled the sky above them.

"Do you think they'll believe us about Laufey?" Bucky said as he and Loki gazed up at the tower.

"They'd be fools not to. We'll find the vault first, before attempting to deal with any Asgardians."

They came up on a sunny courtyard at the base of the tower and crouched among the sweet-smelling bushes lining the square while they studied the scene in front of them. Stone archways led into the building on the opposite side of the courtyard, though it was the people between them and the entrance that Bucky was focused on. Some dozen or so guards were making their way across the courtyard to enter the tower.

Great. Bucky glanced to Loki watching the guards intently. "I can probably take them down," he said quietly. "Won't be subtle, though."

"That won't be necessary."

"You've got a better way to get inside?"

"Oh..." Loki said casually as ever while he turned to look back at Bucky and green light surrounded them. By the time he faced him, he wasn't Loki anymore. "I'd say so."

Bucky glanced down to see himself clad in an identical outfit to the guards just like Loki was, his metal arm replaced by flesh again and a shield and sword in his hands. He couldn't feel the weight of either of them, but they were solid to the touch. However Loki's illusions were possible, he knew his craft well, that was for sure.

"Quickly."

At the word Bucky darted from the bushes after Loki to join the end of the guards just as they marched into the building.

It took all of Bucky's restraint to keep himself from gazing around the grand halls they passed through in wonder, and a glance in Loki's direction showed he was in the same boat, his eyes flicking over the sights around them and trying to drink it all in as subtly as he could.

"It's here," Loki said quietly. "I can feel it."

"You think you can find it?"

Loki nodded in response, and after a few minutes he brushed his hand against Bucky's forearm to halt his steps, snatching it away again the moment their skin touched.

"This way," he said, and the pair dropped back from the other guards. They slipped through a door off to the side of the hall and found themselves inside another huge corridor, as opulent as everything else they'd seen in the tower, which led to the top of a wide staircase. It was a long descent into the bowels of the palace, but finally they reached a set of heavy doors, and when Bucky looked over at Loki again, his eyes were burning with intensity. This was the place, it seemed.

"There's gotta be guards inside," Bucky breathed.

Loki nodded sharply. "We move quickly," he said, "before anyone can sound the alarm."

He threw open the doors and they both charged inside.

There were two guards flanking the doors. They didn't go down easily, but Bucky and Loki managed it without too much difficulty, and Bucky turned back to find Loki gazing across the vault, his eyes wide. He followed Loki's gaze towards a glowing blue box at the end of the room.

"That's it?" he said as they descended the stairs to make their way towards it.

"That's it." His voice was so full of wonder it was some surprise he'd even heard Bucky's words. As they crossed the room Loki's eyes didn't leave the Casket, his skin slipping back into its natural blue with each step closer. "Do you feel that?"

He couldn't feel anything, but there had to be some power radiating off of the thing, if the way Loki's breath caught when he reached the pedestal the Casket rested on was any indication. His hands hovered over the box, its contents pulsing and glowing inside the carved glass, though a growing light from the wall behind the pedestal drew Bucky's eyes away.

"The stories I've heard about this," Loki was saying while the wall seemed to shift and a shadow emerged in among the blinding light. "They didn't do it justice."

"Loki..."

He didn't listen. And that shadow was definitely coming towards them, the wall nothing but light now as whatever the thing lurking behind it was stepped nearer.

"Loki." Bucky's fingers scrabbled at Loki's back to try and draw his attention to the slightly more pressing matter facing them, but again Loki paid him no mind, too busy reaching out to close his hands around the Casket's handles. He sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers touched it, and in that moment, the shadow finally stepped from the wall.

Bucky shoved them out of the way just in time to avoid the concentrated burst of flames that hit right where they had been stood. It looked like an oversized suit of armour towering over them both, though he couldn't tell whether or not there was actually someone inside. Neither would have surprised him.

"Come on," he said, leading Loki towards one of the gaps in the sloped walls to escape another blast that left scorch marks across the floor.

They pushed themselves against the giant stone slab taking up the bulk of the alcove. If they were lucky it would hide them for a while, or perhaps offer some protection if the thing did find them. Loki's breath came out in short gusts against Bucky's neck, his hand resting gently on Bucky's side, while Bucky breathed in Loki's scent, strong enough in this form for him to finally pinpoint what it reminded him of. He smelled like the forests across Europe during winter Bucky had spent so much time in; clean and crisp and free of the pollution in Brooklyn – before the stench of smoke and gunpowder had filled the air. It was all Bucky could do to keep from burying his face in Loki's neck and drinking it in.

At least if Loki could feel the tension in Bucky's body or his rapidly beating heart he'd assume it was due to their current predicament rather than Bucky's emotions playing havoc with him. As it was, ending up with their lives in jeopardy was pretty par for the course by now. It would take more than that to get Bucky's blood pumping.

Like the strange metal creature stepping further into the room until it was level with their spot, flames building where its face should be as it turned towards them. Bucky closed his eyes and pressed himself closer against Loki's body, but instead of the roar of fire he heard the doors scrape open, followed by a set of heavy footsteps.

"Stop," a deep voice commanded.

Bucky peered around the slab again to see the thing turn away and he glanced back at Loki, seemingly just as confused as Bucky was. They stayed rooted in place, listening keenly to what was happening around them.

"Good heavens," another voice said as the sound of more footsteps echoed through the room, presumably upon discovering the guards Loki and Bucky had killed. "What could have done this?"

"They're still here," the first replied. "Find them."

Well at least taking on a few Asgardians would be preferable to roasting alive. Bucky's hand slipped to the knife on his thigh while ice formed around Loki's fingertips.

"You'll make it easier for yourself if you come out now," the voice added, loud enough to address Loki and Bucky.

There was nothing for it. Bucky met Loki's eyes and the pair exchanged a brief nod.

With the knife held firmly in his hand, Bucky stepped from the shadows. There was a tall, blond man in the centre of the room, impossibly well-built and taking up the space with the air of someone who owned it, and the frown on his face eased a little when he took in the sight of Bucky.

"Drop your weapon, mortal," he said, as the two others who had been searching the room crossed the floor to join him. "It will serve you no good."

Bucky slid the knife away, but as did so Loki came out to stand at his side, and whatever relief the man had felt at Bucky's presence quickly dissipated. He clenched his jaw when his eyes flicked to Loki, gripping the oversized hammer in his hand tighter.

"You make attempt to steal the Casket?" He didn't sound remotely surprised that a frost giant would try to do so. Hopefully that would make it a little easier to convince him of Laufey's plan – though getting him to trust Loki probably wouldn't be a walk in the park.

"I have far more claim to it than you, Asgardian." Loki spat the word out like an insult, and Bucky slid out a placating hand before the tension turned into all-out violence. Not that he could do much to stop them if it did.

"No-one's stealing anything – we're _not_ ," he added firmly at the look Loki shot him before turning back to the Asgardians facing them. "Laufey's planning to take the Casket and declare war on Earth. We just need to know you'll keep it out of his reach. A friend of ours said Asgard was an ally to Earth; if Laufey gets his hands on the Casket he's going to try and wipe us out."

"The Earth is sworn under my protection," the apparent leader of the group confirmed with a nod. "This friend of yours, how is it that they know of Asgard?"

"His name is Coulson. He works for an organisation that deals with this kind of stuff."

The man's eyes filled with recognition. "Phillip Coulson?"

"That's him."

"I consider him friend also," he said, though before he could continue the woman at his shoulder frowned and stepped forward.

"Thor, you cannot seriously be entertaining the notion of trusting these–"

"Hold up," Bucky said. "Thor? As in, _Thor_?" He looked back at Bucky mildly as he twisted the hammer in his grip. _The hammer_. Jesus, what the hell kind of universe had he been thrust into? Any day now he was going to wake up back in his bed in Brooklyn and this would all turn out to have been just some crazy fever dream. He had to, surely. But in the meantime he turned back to Loki and let out a helpless laugh as he gestured at Thor. "Thor."

Loki's lip quirked in amusement at Bucky's disbelief.

"They murdered the guards," the woman continued, snapping Bucky's thoughts back to the matter at hand.

"Out of necessity."

"And it hardly balances the scales," Loki added, "considering the number who have fallen at Asgardian hands."

"Loki," Bucky said just loudly enough for Loki to hear and he rolled his eyes in response, though he paid attention to Bucky's warning, the challenge in his posture disappearing.

"And you?" Thor said to Loki. "What reason would you have to defend Earth from your own kin?"

"I consider them no kin of mine."

Thor still eyed Loki warily, but after a moment he bowed his head. "I will inform the Allfather of Laufey's schemes," he said. "He will see to it that the Casket is kept safe. But in the meantime, Asgard is no place for the two of you." He turned to the other Asgardians behind him. "Sif, Fandral, ensure they make it safely back to where they came from."

With that they were snuck from the city, Loki's illusions keeping them concealed until they had reached the enormous golden dome sat atop a waterfall that seemed to flow into space itself. They were greeted by a man stood on a dais in the centre of the room.

"There aren't many who have managed to slip into Asgard undetected under my watch," he said. He sounded almost impressed.

"Send them back to Midgard," the woman, Sif, said, and he nodded.

Bucky wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to do that equipped with nothing but a sword, as impressive-looking as it was, though he didn't have time to question it before the walls around them started to spin and something tugged firmly at Bucky's stomach, the floor disappearing from beneath him.

He'd barely had time to register firm ground forming at his feet again and the blinding flash of colours settling back into late-afternoon sunlight when something sharp pricked his neck, and everything went black.

***

Consciousness tugged at Loki, not powerful enough to make him open his eyes yet, but his mind slowly stirred. His body felt heavy, his thoughts addled. Something was wrong; he could tell that much.

He cracked his eyes open with difficulty as his mind began to focus again. It was as if he'd been ripped from a deep sleep – far deeper than any he'd had in a long while. This couldn't be the effects of travelling on the Bifrost, surely? The Asgardians did it constantly, and their physiology could hardly be too dissimilar from Loki's own.

With his limbs fighting him all the way, Loki pushed himself into a seating position on the hard ground he had lain upon, symbols burnt into the earth around him, and as he straightened he winced at the sharp discomfort in his neck. He reached a hand to it to find long needles buried in his skin. They had to have been laced with some kind of poison. It would explain what was wrong with him.

He tossed the darts aside – a pathetically short throw given his lack of strength – and glanced up. Whatever had hit him must have hit Bucky as well, and enhanced or not, he was still human. He could still be unconscious.

"Bucky?" Loki climbed up on aching legs and scoured the immediate area.

There was no sign of him.

" _Bucky?_ "


	11. Chapter 11

It was still black when Bucky opened his eyes. Were his eyes open? He'd thought they were, but there was so much fog clouding his brain that he was having trouble distinguishing between dreams and reality. Before he could try to determine for sure, the seat beneath him jerked and his head cracked into something hard, sending pain splintering across his skull.

Yep, he was definitely awake.

Bucky groaned and tried to orient himself. He could still feel movement, hear the sounds of an engine running and tyres speeding over asphalt. He was being transported in a van, presumably. To where, he didn't want to imagine. He had an awful suspicion, though. And he couldn't let himself be proved right.

His hands were bound, his vision obscured by what had to be a sack over his head; neither of which would make getting out any easier. But he had to try. He had to hope. If he let himself focus on how bad his chances were, the terror already sending his heart racing would consume him completely. And what good would that serve him?

He sank lower in his seat as the van flew over a bump in the road, and strained to place the guards he was surely flanked by over the sounds of the engine. There was nothing but silence inside the vehicle, though after long minutes someone finally spoke.

"How much longer?" the voice called. "I want to be there before he wakes up." It came from somewhere on Bucky's right, close enough that he could probably reach them.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

The moment a gruff reply sounded from up front Bucky twisted in his seat and kicked his leg out towards where the voice had come from. He made contact and a grunt of pain followed the crack of Bucky's boot connecting with someone's head, though as soon as he jumped to his feet a pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind.

Right. The other guard.

Praying that he hadn't completely lost his bearings, Bucky slammed them both backwards, and to his relief they hit the side of the van, just as it screeched to a stop. The man behind him slid unconscious to the floor while Bucky whipped the sack off his head and glanced around to find Loki wasn't anywhere to be seen – yet before he could worry about what that meant the door to the cabin burst open and two more men faced him.

They were both wearing SHIELD uniforms. He hadn't expected anything less.

The first launched forward and Bucky turned to take the attack on his left arm as he kicked out to send the man stumbling back. That was a big mistake, as it turned out. In his effort to regain his balance with his hands still tied in front of him, Bucky had exposed his right side to the one agent left standing. He didn't have time to move out of the way before the needle in the man's hand went plunging deep into his arm.

He'd blown it.

Bucky staggered, his vision blurring into nothing by the time he'd dropped to his knees.

 

The next time he regained consciousness, he wasn't surrounded by blackness. Light shone through his eyelids, and when he cracked them open, he was sat in a heart-stoppingly familiar room.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

He squeezed his eyes shut again in some desperate hope that he would open them and be somewhere else; that this would turn out to be just another nightmare, somehow so much more vivid than the ones which had dogged his sleep since he'd been freed from HYDRA's clutches. Hell, he'd even take being back on Jotunheim over this. But when had he ever been so lucky? He was still in the vault, the stench of leather and sweat and fear smothering him as he fought against the heavy fastenings holding him in place.

"He's awake," a voice said from somewhere above him. Bucky didn't bother to look up and locate the HYDRA agents in the room. Getting out of the chair was the first challenge; he'd worry about fighting off his handlers once he freed himself.

If he freed himself.

"Dope him again."

"Wait," another man cut in over the sound of a door scraping open and closed. "I can't wipe him if he's unconscious."

Oh, God. This was really happening. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He needed to get out. He gritted his teeth as he pulled against his bindings until his shoulder threatened to pop from its socket, and he gasped in pain. It shouldn't be this hard to break his way out. His body was drenched in sweat; that should have made it easier to slide his arms from the restraints, if his limbs weren't shaking too much to do what Bucky wanted them to.

"Took your time, Doc."

It was then that Bucky recognised the voice, and he stopped thrashing long enough to glance up at the agent who'd spoken. It was the same man he'd confronted at the Triskelion earlier that week, still sporting a nasty bruise across his cheek from their meeting. He wasn't sure if the other agents were the ones he'd fought then as well, but the man looked to be the leader of both teams.

Well, he certainly wasn't going to make this a pleasant experience for Bucky. Not that it made much difference. 'Pleasant' was pretty damn far removed from this situation.

"I got here as fast as I could. How was I to know you'd be bringing him in?"

"He's given us one hell of a run-around, that's for sure."

"He didn't come in on his own, I take it?"

"Does he look willing to you?"

At the words Bucky glared at the two men. If this is how it had always been when he'd been dragged into this place, fighting desperately to hold on to himself while they toyed with his head until he was the perfect weapon, Bucky was glad he still couldn't remember it. The sense of sickening familiarity underneath the dread he was feeling suggested as much.

They continued to talk as if Bucky wasn't even present, barely sparing him a glance in favour of studying the machines surrounding him. Preparing to make Bucky their prisoner again. Bile rose in his stomach at the thought of what would happen once they began.

"And his programming has completely broken down?"

"Looks like. Didn't think that was possible."

"Well he's never been out of cryo freeze this long before. I suppose it's only natural that the brain would try to rebuild itself."

"Can you fix it?"

"It's a big job, but we'll have him back by the morning."

"Do better." He turned from the doctor to glance over at something behind Bucky. "Was he alone when you found him?"

"No," one of the other agents replied. "It looked like the same creature he was spotted with at the Triskelion."

"'Creature?'" the doctor cut in, looking up from the screens above Bucky to shoot the others a curious look. At least that would buy Bucky another few seconds. Though any thought of trying to free himself was forgotten in that moment as he listened with horror to his handlers' conversation.

"Whatever it is, it ain't half as human as it looks; we know that much."

"What did you do to him?" Bucky said. He didn't even want to imagine the kind of experiments HYDRA would subject Loki to knowing he wasn't human. It wouldn't take them long to realise he had power; if they thought they could tap into it like they did with the Tesseract...

The man answered Bucky with a hard crack to the jaw that would have sent him crashing to the ground if his arms hadn't been restrained. The sharp tang of blood filled his mouth and the side of his face throbbed as he collapsed back into the chair.

He was struggling again within seconds. It was a futile gesture, but he'd be damned if he was going to sit back and accept his fate without putting up whatever fight he could.

"Hold him down," the doctor said. "He'll damage the arm if he keeps that up."

Bucky would have happily torn himself free of it if it would have given him a better chance of escaping.

Two pairs of hands forced him down, just as a loud bleeping echoed around the room. It was enough to make Bucky's heart seize, until he realised it was just the ringleader's cell phone, not the machines being powered up ready to take his mind from him again. Yet.

"They need me back at SHIELD," he said. "Can you handle this without me?"

"He'll be docile enough once he's been wiped."

He nodded and headed out of the room. Now if only the other agents would follow him. But even if Bucky was left without his handlers to keep him in check, he was still stuck in a chair he couldn't free himself from, only minutes away from being turned into HYDRA's tool again.

There was no getting out of this one.

"We're ready."

The hands that had been holding him down clasped around his head to keep him in place, prising his jaws open to force a rubber mouth guard between his teeth. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut as the hands dropped away from him and the machine overhead sparked to life. The creaking sound of its descent lasted longer than he could stand, each second a lifetime of ever-mounting terror, before the noise stopped and searing pain screamed through Bucky's head.


	12. Chapter 12

The sight of the hotel suite unfolded around Loki, hazy at first but steadily growing clearer as his spell took hold — which had taken a great deal more effort than it should have, given his condition. The effects of whatever poison had rendered him unconscious were wearing off at an excruciatingly slow rate. Using his magic would only drain him further, though it was a necessity. He was safe, at least. The same couldn't be said of Bucky.

"Stark."

He was sat with his back to Loki, a drink in hand and giving commands to his computer, and at the sound of Loki's voice he sprung to his feet and whirled around to face him with wide eyes. "Jesus," he said, shaking the liquid that had spilled over the rim of his glass from his hand. "Knock before you do that."

Loki opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so Stark glanced from the doorway to Loki and frowned. "Did you teleport here? 'Cause if you've always been able to do that, that would have come in handy before now."

"It's just a projection," he replied the moment he could get a word in. "Bucky's been taken."

Well that served to silence Stark for a moment. He stared back at Loki, his eyes even wider than before. "What?" he said. "How? When? Start with the how."

"We were leaving Asgard—"

"You guys were in Asgard?"

Loki rolled his eyes and fought the urge to scream. They didn't have time for this. Every minute they wasted was a minute Bucky was slipping further from their reach."Shall I tell you what happened or are you going to keep bombarding me with more questions?" he snapped.

Stark held up his hands to placate him, though it did little to ease Loki's frustrations. "All right, easy," he said as he moved to sit down again. "Bucky: tell me everything."

"We were attacked upon our return to this realm. By the time I had regained consciousness, he was gone. There's no trace of him."

"You think someone's got him?"

"HYDRA." There was no-one else it could have been. Loki couldn't bring himself to entertain the possibility that there may be yet more threats out there for them to contend with.

Stark nodded in agreement. "Where are you?"

"I'm not sure." He'd scoured the immediate area in search of Bucky, and they seemed to have landed in some kind of park, yet he had no idea if he was even in the right city. If not, they would never reach Bucky in time. HYDRA couldn't be treating him with any shred of kindness.

If they hadn't killed him already. A wave of nausea hit Loki at the thought.

Though unless they decided it was too much of a risk to do anything but kill him, it was more likely they had captured him in hopes of making him their slave again. Loki had to hope that was the case. As awful as the procedure had to be, judging by the terror that gripped Bucky at just the thought of returning to their clutches, at least he'd still be alive. And Loki had managed to restore many of his memories before; with any luck he may be able to do the same again.

Once he managed to find Bucky, that was.

"I'll call Coulson," Stark said. "I think he's still monitoring activity at the portal."

"We didn't come from the portal."

That earned Loki a blink and a frown, though his vision was fading in and out too much to truly focus on Stark, the sight of grass and tall trees creeping in on the edges of the room. "Then how did you get back?" Stark's voice sounded somewhere far away as he spoke.

"The Bifrost."

"The what now?"

Loki only managed to growl in response. His physical strength was returning, but mentally the projection was too draining to sustain in this state. It was something of a surprise Stark could still see him at all. But if Loki did collapse from the strain of using his magic, at least he could rest a little easier knowing Stark would do everything in his power to find Bucky in Loki's absence.

"JARVIS, get Coulson on the line," Stark said, though Loki barely heard the words. "We'll find you. Sit tight."

It was with a grateful sigh that Loki let his projection fade away, and he slumped back against the tree he'd been propping himself up against, closing his eyes to try and ease the throbbing pain in his head. But he didn't let himself rest for long. It could take hours for Stark and Coulson to find him, before they even began searching for Bucky; he didn't have time to wait. Bucky didn't have time.

After only a few short seconds Loki pushed himself back up to his feet, his limbs heavy, glancing around in search of which direction to head while he mentally sifted through all the magics he could think of for a spell that may aid him in finding Bucky. He came up with none — none that required any ingredients he'd be able to find on Earth, none that wouldn't take longer to perform than Loki could spare.

He cursed to himself as he strode towards the busiest road in sight. What was the use of spending so much of his life up to this point buried away amongst Jotunheim's forbidden texts if none of the spells he'd gleaned from them could help him now? He and Bucky should have slipped away to find Asgard's library while they'd had the chance. Asgard's knowledge of magic had to far surpass that of Jotunheim. And perhaps had they lingered on Asgard for longer, they would not have even found themselves in this mess upon their return to Earth.

But there was nothing to be done to change the course of events now. That did little to stop Loki, though, driving himself to the brink of madness imagining all the ways he could have prevented this if only he had the gift of foresight as he made his way through the streets, praying he was heading in the right direction. To his relief, as he pressed further on the streets began to look familiar even in the darkness, buildings and landmarks Loki remembered from his first drive into the city with Bucky. It felt so long ago now.

He rooted himself in place and closed his eyes, mindless of the bustle of people brushing past him with the occasional tut of displeasure while they weaved around his immobile form. He was in the right city. He could still reach Bucky in time. If only he could concentrate, focus on the streets Bucky had taken before they had spotted the bank where he had been subjected to HYDRA's torture, Loki could find his way back to him.

His eyes snapped open and flicked over the buildings until he spotted the one he was searching for; slightly taller than the others, its red brick standing out against the pale buildings surrounding it, and Loki made his way towards it without flinching at the screeching brakes and blare of car horns his dash across the road earned him. He charged down street after street, constantly searching for familiar sights, and after a few hours that felt like an eternity Loki reached the motel he and Bucky had stayed in, their stolen car still abandoned in the parking lot.

He could have sobbed in relief as he laid eyes on the building. From there the direction to the bank was firmly ingrained in Loki's memory from the number of times he and Bucky had made the trip. He broke into a run, the streets thankfully quieter in this section of the city, and he didn't stop until he spotted a domed roof just visible over the smaller structures beside the bank.

Despite his every impulse screaming to charge onwards, Loki forced himself to come to a halt, his breath coming out in ragged pants while he studied the building that was finally within reach. He had to approach this sensibly. As satisfying as it might have been to simply stride inside and slaughter everyone that stood between him and Bucky, Loki couldn't risk getting injured before he was able to reach him. And Bucky would sooner perish than have Loki kill innocents to get to him.

He had been rooted in place watching the bank for a few excruciating minutes when he caught a bright sliver of light from the far end of the building. A door that wasn't nearly as imposing as the ornately carved entrance pushed open and a man stepped out into the night. From this distance Loki couldn't make out many of his features, though he'd wager the man's black outfit was a SHIELD uniform, and as he walked down the street towards the van waiting at the side of the road, Loki darted forward, slipping unseen into the building before the door slid closed.

Loki found himself in a bright, quiet corridor that split off in two directions some fifteen feet from where he was stood. He carried on, slowing his pace as much as he was able to keep his footsteps quiet, ignoring the staircase to his right in favour of heading left into the heart of the building. If after all of this Bucky wasn't here, Loki didn't want to think how he would react. It was painful enough to know he may have already been too late; if he had to start his search again, with no idea where he could possibly find Bucky if not here...

He shook his head, as if the action could force those thoughts from his mind. This was the only base of operations Loki knew HYDRA had. He had to start here. And if he didn't find Bucky, he'd come up with a new plan when it came to it. In the meantime, all he could do was keep hoping.

It wasn't long before he had his answer. Loki was just peering through the round window of a set of doors he'd found into an empty room when he heard a long, agonised scream.

His heart seized in his chest at the sound.

"Bucky," he breathed, and with renewed purpose Loki charged in the direction the scream was coming from. He careened around the corner and came skidding to a stop outside a thick metal door that stood open, Bucky's cries pouring from within. Fighting to collect himself — no easy task with that dreadful sound tearing away at him — Loki peered carefully around the doorway.

Bucky was strapped into a chair in the centre of the room, his body struggling against his restraints and face contorted in pain beneath the metal enclosing his head, though as much as it pained him to do so, Loki forced his eyes away. There was a barred door between him and Bucky, a bored-looking guard in front of it and half a dozen other men surrounding Bucky's chair. Loki would have to get that door open before he made attempt on the man closest; he daren't show himself before he could get to Bucky.

He pressed his hands to the floor and closed his eyes. The cold flowed through his veins easily enough, and as Loki looked down there was already a frost blossoming across the ground from his fingers. By the time anyone noticed the growing chill in the air, it would be too late.

Loki peered around the doorway again while the ice spread towards the bars, creeping up the metal like ivy until they were brittle enough to break, before his gaze flicked to the guard. He gave a small shiver, and at the sight of his breath steaming in the air he glanced around with a bemused frown.

"What the—" he started when he finally noticed the frozen bars.

Loki didn't give him time to finish his sentence. He launched forward, aiming his fist for the man's throat as the ice around his hand formed a sharp blade and plunged into the tender flesh. He didn't even wait to see him crumple to the ground before he turned to the door, and with a thought the ice shattered, along with the bars beneath it. The sound of metal skittering across the floor was lost beneath the confused shouts of the men inside the room.

He heard a gunshot echo loudly off of the metal boxes lining the walls, though Loki didn't slow down, didn't think; a blur of unrestrained fury as he hacked and slashed his way through the men standing between him and Bucky until the two of them were all that remained. Loki didn't even allow himself a moment to catch his breath before he was at Bucky's side.

Ice crept from his hands across the machine holding Bucky's head in place, leaving sparks in its wake as it spread and the cursed device shut down. The awful sound of Bucky's cries was replaced by ragged, pained breathing, his chest heaving as if it was an effort to fill his lungs, and Loki reached out to cup Bucky's cheeks. Luckily he remembered himself before his frozen hands could make contact and his arms dropped uselessly to his sides, hands curled into fists, nails digging into his skin.

"Bucky," he said.

Bucky's eyes focused on Loki with some difficulty. He wasn't fully coherent yet, but he was conscious at least, and didn't seem to be in too much pain. Loki could only hope he hadn't been too late.

"What happened?" The words sounded rough as they left him. Loki wasn't surprised. Bucky's throat had to be torn to shreds from his screams.

"What do you remember?"

"You wouldn't talk to me," he started with a frown while he wracked his brains for details, and at the words Loki glanced away from Bucky's eyes, a heavy weight settling in his gut. "We were looking for the Casket somewhere... Asgard?"

Loki nodded and a relieved sigh forced its way from his lungs. Bucky's handlers couldn't have managed to take much from him if he still remembered heading to Asgard. Loki could easily fill in any blanks he did have while they made their way back to Stark's hotel. As long as he didn't ask why Loki had been so distant after their departure from Jotunheim, after Loki had been foolish enough to let his passions overpower his reason — he wasn't sure he had a satisfying answer to that question.

"How did they find us?"

"I have no idea," Loki replied. "Are you all right?"

"I guess." Bucky rubbed at his forehead, red marks burned into his temples, before he noticed the carnage surrounding them and looked around in surprise. "You did all this?"

Loki shrugged. He'd have fought his way through plenty more had they stood in his way.

"You're hurt."

He followed Bucky's gaze to his arm, his shirt torn and blood soaking into the fabric. He'd not even noticed. "It's nothing."

He'd fully expected Bucky to press the matter, to ensure Loki hadn't injured himself attempting to reach him, but instead Bucky nodded and slid out of his chair without argument. He really must have been left shaken by his ordeal. That fact would have been plain to see just by watching Bucky, though; it was impossible to miss the tremble in his hands as he crossed to the table where his belongings had been discarded and struggled to dress himself again.

"You mind giving me a hand?" Bucky said after a moment, gesturing weakly at the myriad fastenings on his shirt, and Loki stepped forward without hesitation. "This thing's like a damn straightjacket."

Loki had just finished fixing the last of the leather straps in place when he heard a wet choking sound from behind him followed by a groan of pain, and he whirled around to see one of the men lying amidst the bodies and pools of blood and melting ice beginning to stir. Before he could even react, Bucky had snatched one of his guns from the table and fired until the man stilled once more.

"I shouldn't have done that," he said the moment he'd lowered the gun again, the echo of gunshots still ringing off the walls while he spoke.

"Did it make you feel better, at least?"

"Not really." He sighed and stared down at the body for a moment before collecting himself and looking back at Loki. "Let's get outta here."

They crossed the room together, kicking their way through the bodies to make a path to the doors, though just as Loki was about to step back out into the corridor, Bucky spoke up again.

"Wait," he said, and Loki glanced back to see him paused in the entryway to the vault, tugging something from his belt while he turned on his heel to face the room again. Whatever was in his hand he tossed onto the seat of the chair and immediately rushed back to Loki's side to push the thick door closed after them. There was the muffled sound of an explosion from inside, and Bucky smiled. "Now I feel better."

 

Stark was waiting for them when they returned to his room hours later. He had offered to pick them up once Bucky had called to let him know they were both safe, though Bucky had insisted on walking back, despite the distance. And Loki could hardly say he'd minded. It was certainly more pleasant leisurely strolling back to the hotel with Bucky, answering his questions about what else had happened on Asgard — and fortunately the memories came back to Bucky quite easily once Loki had supplied the details — than his earlier journey across the city had been. For one who had spent so much of his life alone, Loki wasn't nearly as fond of the solitude anymore.

"Well, look who's decided to grace us with their presence," Stark said as Bucky and Loki stepped into the main room. He was stood in the same spot Loki had found him earlier, the computer screens behind him covered in what looked to be a variety of maps to the city, certain points highlighted with bright dots.

"You're not asleep?" Bucky said.

"Ah, sleep is for the weak. And the people not currently babysitting folks who think running off and getting kidnapped is wacky fun."

"I didn't exactly run off."

"I might have done," Loki cut in, and Bucky glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. "Time was of the essence."

"And what did you think Coulson and I were doing, going for a romantic stroll on our way to find you?"

Coulson emerged from the bathroom while Stark spoke, a slight frown on his usually impassive features. "You're saying you didn't find it romantic?" he said as he joined them.

"You're not my type, sweetheart."

He shrugged in response. "You don't deserve me anyway."

Loki rolled his eyes. How did he end up surrounded by these imbeciles? He glanced back at Bucky to see him watching Loki, an amused smirk on his face at Stark and Coulson's conversation. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Loki's mouth in return.

"Sgt. Barnes," Coulson said, turning to Bucky while he crossed the room to make his way towards the front door. "We should go over everything you remember; there may be something that can help us identify any double agents in SHIELD's ranks."

Bucky nodded. "Not tonight, though," he replied.

"Of course. I have a meeting with Director Fury about this HYDRA business in the morning, but afterwards I can drop by. Now if you don't need me any more tonight, I'd like to get some sleep before dawn."

"Take the bed," Stark said to Bucky once Coulson had let himself out of the room with a departing nod. "You look like you could use it."

"Thanks." He slipped into the bedroom, and the moment the door closed behind him Stark turned to Loki, his voice hushed when he spoke again.

"How's he doing?"

"He's still shaken, but he seems to be recovering." Though whether he truly was or not was a different matter. Loki stared at the closed door for a moment, before bidding Stark goodnight and following after Bucky.

He was sat on the edge of Stark's bed when Loki entered, staring blankly at the wall, his chin resting against his steepled fingers. He'd already freed himself from his shirt and tossed it across the room in apparent disgust. Loki wasn't sure the sight of his scarred and butchered body would be any more comforting to him, but there was more colour in Bucky's cheeks than there had been even moments before.

"How are you?" Loki said. He'd already lost count of how many times he'd asked the question, though if Bucky was exasperated by having to answer it yet again, he didn't show it.

"Wasn't an experience I was keen to relive," he replied. "But I'll be fine."

"You should rest."

"Nah. I've got energy to burn."

He could have predicted that would be Bucky's answer. But they had barely had time to stop and catch their breaths over the last two days; even Loki could quite happily throw himself down somewhere vaguely comfortable and switch off his brain for a while. "When was the last time you slept?" he said. "And didn't wake every hour after another nightmare."

Bucky offered him a sheepish smile in response. "You knew about that, huh?"

"It hasn't escaped my notice." He rounded the bed to stand over Bucky, Loki's fingers brushing his cheek as Bucky lifted his chin to gaze up at him. He would have had to be a fool to miss the signs of Bucky's growing exhaustion; the dark circles under his eyes getting worse with each passing day, the mug of coffee never far from his hand while they were hidden away in Stark's suite. Almost nightly Loki himself woke at the sound of either Bucky stirring in fitful sleep or wandering about the room having given up on rest altogether. Whatever modifications HYDRA had made to his physiology, Bucky was still human. He couldn't survive this much longer.

"I'm okay, Loki," he said. "Really. You don't need to worry about me."

But despite the words, Loki's fingers stayed in place on Bucky's warm skin and Bucky closed his eyes, his jaw tensing as if he was fighting not to lean into Loki's touch. Loki himself was struggling to listen to the part of his mind ordering him to withdraw his hand, to not let himself fall prey to his emotions again.

Finally Loki managed to snatch his hand away, and Bucky cleared his throat as Loki strode back across the room. "Thanks, by the way," he said, "for getting me out."

"You would have done the same."

"Of course. Still, I appreciate it."

Loki barely heard the words, still facing away from Bucky and trying desperately to focus on the skyline visible through the window rather than Bucky's reflection in the glass. He needed to control himself. If he kept letting himself get so close to Bucky, he would be hopeless to avoid a repeat of what had happened between them on Jotunheim. As much as he may have longed for that in his weaker moments, it would only make leaving Bucky harder — if he was even still able to return to his old life. After the events of the last couple of days, that seemed exceptionally unlikely.

"What is it?" Bucky said, pulling Loki from his thoughts, and he turned back to see Bucky watching him intently.

"I always thought I was to return to Jotunheim once this was over. If I did so now it would be to a lifetime of chains, or worse."

Bucky nodded. "You could stay here."

"What do I have to keep me on this realm? Besides you."

"You mean that isn't reason enough?" He shot Loki an easy smile as he spoke, the last few hours forgotten for the moment, and Loki chuckled softly in response.

"Perhaps," he admitted.

Bucky's grin faltered. "Yeah?" He stood and rounded the bed to stand before Loki, each step closer sapping the air from Loki's lungs until he stood breathless, the mere inches left between them somehow too much and not enough all at once.

"Yes."

Loki's fingers brushed Bucky's cheek again, and this time Bucky didn't tense. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch as Loki's fingers moved past his ear to slide into his hair, his own hand resting gently against Loki's chest.

"I like when you touch me," he said quietly.

The words brought a smile to Loki's face. "Likewise."

He'd have held Bucky there forever if he could, though the moment was painfully fleeting. Bucky pulled back after only a few seconds and met Loki's gaze. "I didn't think you wanted this?"

"I'm not sure it's a wise thing to want," Loki replied as his eyes dropped to Bucky's lips. "Yet it's growing increasingly difficult to care."

The corner of Bucky's mouth tugged upwards again before he leaned in to close those last few inches between them. It was more chaste than the last kiss they'd shared, Bucky's lips softly brushing his, but there was a promise in it of far more to come. Loki yearned for it.

Bucky's tongue nudged insistently against the seam of Loki's lips, and he parted them to let it slip inside and caress his own. And within moments any trace of chastity was long gone. There was so much hunger in Bucky's kiss; hunger for him, hunger for any physical contact that wasn't pain, and Loki was only too happy to give it to him. He wrapped his arm around Bucky's back to pull him closer and, without even breaking apart to watch where they were heading, they collapsed down onto the bed together.

His hand slid through what little space there was in the tangle of limbs to press between Bucky's legs, his own body aching for Bucky's touch, and Bucky let out a choked gasp in response. "How long has it been since you were last touched?" Loki said.

"I can't even remember."

Loki could relate; he'd been starved of affection for far too long himself. Of course, affection was hard to come by on Jotunheim. He'd had others — not many; his status as a son of Laufey made him no more desirable, and of the few who did want him there were fewer still he desired in return — though none of them had been anything more than a body to him. None of them could make him burn with anticipation at just the thought of what they were about to do the way Bucky could.

Bucky swallowed as Loki mouthed along the side of his neck, his pulse rapid beneath Loki's tongue."I gotta say," he added breathlessly, and Loki forced himself to pause and look back up at him, "I never exactly thought this far ahead."

"What have you thought about?"

"Mostly just kissing you," Bucky said, and pressed his lips to Loki's once more. As they kissed Loki moved to withdraw his hand from Bucky's crotch, though before he could, Bucky's own hand was atop his, pushing it back against him. "Doesn't mean I want you to stop."

He rolled Loki onto his back, and they moved together for a few blissful moments, before Bucky's mouth left Loki's to slide down his neck and he tugged open Loki's shirt, trailing his lips across Loki's chest towards his stomach. His tongue traced fire along Loki's skin. It was almost too much, too much heat, too much pleasure after countless years of loneliness, but he'd be damned if he was going to make Bucky stop.

Loki's fingers gripped at Bucky's shoulders, and he dropped his head back against the pillows as a desperate moan tore from his lips. "You're so warm," he breathed, writhing beneath Bucky while his fingers slid along Bucky's soft skin to thread into his hair, and Bucky let out his own appreciative moan in return.

He closed his eyes, focusing on that almost overwhelming heat pressing against him while Bucky moved further down his torso, though just as his fingers reached to unbutton Loki's trousers, the bedroom door burst open.

"Well I'm interrupting."

Stark.

Loki's eyes snapped open again and Bucky dropped his head against Loki's chest with a tiny groan of frustration. This was unreal. Of all the times he could have disturbed them, he had to pick this one. They should have killed him when they'd had the chance.

"This had better be good, Stark," Bucky said through gritted teeth.

Stark's gaze flicked to meet Loki's. "Your dad's here to kill us all," he announced, before turning back to Bucky. "Good enough for you?"


	13. Chapter 13

Well if Laufey didn't have the best damn timing in the universe. As if there weren't enough reasons to hate the guy already. Of course, in the grand scheme of things starting a war was a hell of a lot worse than interrupting just as Loki had finally opened up to Bucky again, but in that moment, emotions running high and Loki's body still pressed wanting and ready beneath his, Bucky knew which he was more put out by. He had half a mind to say screw it just to be with Loki a while longer, to let himself be selfish for once in his life. He'd earned it, hadn't he?

But even as he was considering it, Bucky pulled away from Loki and they climbed off the bed to get dressed again. As good as it might have felt in the moment, the rational side of Bucky's brain that he just couldn't switch off, no matter how hard he'd been trying, knew he would never be able to live with himself if people got hurt while he was too wrapped up with Loki to help. This was what he and Loki had signed up for, after all. Preventing Laufey from starting a war was the mission; falling into bed together was nothing but an unforeseen perk of the job.

Bucky emerged from the bedroom to find Stark waiting for him outside the door wearing a barely restrained grin, clearly itching to say something about what he'd just witnessed.

"Not a word, Stark."

"Got it; not one word," he replied as Bucky passed, and he motioned to zip his lips closed. His silence lasted about two seconds before what little self-restraint he had crumbled. "But you know, I was wondering about the two of—" He stopped short at the glare Bucky shot him and took a cautious step backwards. "Okay, not a word. Starting now."

"What happened?" Loki said from his spot perched on the edge of the coffee table, his eyes glued to the computer screens, shoulders tense and worry heavy on his features where there had only been bliss just minutes before.

" _We've picked up an energy disturbance matching the kind your arrival on Earth caused_ ," Coulson's disembodied voice replied, " _but stronger. A lot stronger._ "

"Where?"

" _Not far_."

"Looks like they're coming straight for you," Stark said to Loki. "Two birds, one stone."

"You think Laufey has the Casket?" Bucky said.

Loki nodded without bothering to look up at him, his expression grim. The feeling was going around.

"We must have been followed to the portal back on Jotunheim." Bucky shook his head as he fought the urge to laugh. He and Loki had to have the worst luck going. They'd tried so hard, _so damn hard_ , to make this right; it was supposed to be over by now. Laufey was supposed to be stuck on Jotunheim, no way to get to Asgard without Loki to torture information out of; the Asgardians were supposed to be keeping the Casket safe; and Bucky and Loki were supposed to be curled up in bed together doing their best to forget about anything that wasn't the two of them. They weren't supposed to end up here.

But maybe they could still fix things.

"Is there a way to stop Laufey, even with the Casket?"

Finally Loki turned from staring blankly ahead to meet Bucky's eyes. Seeing the resignation within them, though, Bucky almost wished he hadn't. "What does it matter?" he said. He wasn't even mad. He wasn't anything. Like it was more effort than he could muster to feel anything but defeated. "We're already too late. All of this has been for nothing."

"Not for nothing." Bucky's voice was soft enough to prompt Loki to look up at him again, and he offered Bucky the barest hint of a smile in response.

"And maybe it's not too late," Stark cut in. It was nice to see he'd started focusing on the problem at hand rather than what he'd caught Loki and Bucky doing. It probably wouldn't last long, though.

"HYDRA wanted a war," Loki said simply, while Bucky gazed back at Stark. "They have one."

He held up a finger to silence Loki, unconcerned by the admittedly good point he'd raised. If all it would take to put Phase 2 back into production was an attack by extra-terrestrial forces, there was nothing they could do to prevent that now. Though if they couldn't stop Laufey's army none of it would matter anyway, so maybe it really wasn't worth being concerned about.

"JARVIS, do we still have access to SHIELD's servers?"

" _We do indeed, sir_."

"Wipe everything about Phase 2 you can find."

" _Certainly. It should only take a few moments_."

His gaze flicked from Bucky to Loki. "That's one problem taken care of," he announced.

For now, maybe. Finding out the Phase 2 records were missing wouldn't stop the World Security Council from restarting the project — but it would buy them some time. Hopefully enough time for Coulson to figure out why the heads of SHIELD were so keen to instate Phase 2, and where the hell HYDRA came into it all. But first they had to worry about Laufey.

"So," Bucky said, "the frost giants. There's gotta be something we can do, right? Slow 'em down at least, before they can rack up too high a body count?"

Coulson was the first to speak. " _We're scrambling whatever agents we have in the area,_ " he replied. " _I'm on my way to you now before heading to the Jotunns' location_. _I'll be on the roof in two minutes._ "

"Let's get moving, then."

Two minutes later Bucky was geared up and stood with Loki on the roof of the hotel, watching as Stark's Iron Man suit unfurled from the metal briefcase at his feet and folded around him. He'd seen video footage of Stark in action as Iron Man, but watching him suit up in person was something else entirely. If they hadn't had more pressing things to worry about, Bucky would have picked his brain about the science behind the suit. No doubt he would have been only too happy to talk Bucky's ear off about it.

He took off and went shooting through the night sky while what looked like a small stealth jet approached almost silently and landed ten feet from their spot. Coulson was waiting in the cargo bay as the door opened, smartly dressed as ever, his hands folded behind his back. From looking at him, you'd never have guessed they were heading off to risk their lives trying to prevent an alien attack.

"Gentlemen," he said calmly.

"What, are we going to a business meeting with these guys?" Bucky said, striding forward to climb into the jet. He didn't need to turn back to know Loki was at his heels following him inside.

Coulson's lip twitched a fraction in response. "Strap in."

The jet lurched into the air again before they could even take their seats in the chairs lining the wall, though once they were moving it was a smooth ride. Part of him knew it would be. He'd come to learn that feeling meant yet another experience from his life as the Winter Soldier that he still couldn't quite remember.

"Do we know anything else yet?" Bucky said.

"They're condensed in one location for now, which plays in our favour; fewer bystanders, less chance of things getting out of our control. But if they start to spread out, we won't have the manpower to stop them."

"How many agents do we have on this, Coulson?" the jet's pilot called over his shoulder, and Coulson turned to face his seat.

"Not enough. Even without worrying about which of our agents may be working for HYDRA, there are only so many people close enough to get here in time."

He shook his head. "I'm out of the country three weeks and all of SHIELD goes to hell," he sighed. "A little heads up would've been nice, by the way."

"I'll remember to send you a memo next time, Barton."

Bucky turned to Loki while Coulson and the pilot continued to talk. He was still lost in his own thoughts.

"How you doing?" Bucky said, and Loki's attention snapped to him.

"We should have always known it would come to this," he replied. "Though I would have much preferred if Laufey had waited another hour or two to launch his attack."

And there it was: a tiny grin flashing across his lips, the glint of humour in his eyes. Bucky smiled back at him warmly. "Yeah, you and me both." His eyes flicked to Coulson, still facing away and too involved in his conversation to pay them any attention, before continuing. "But maybe if we get this over with quick we can pick up where we left off."

Loki's smile widened. "That's quite the incentive."

"Coming up on them now," the pilot announced. He let out a long whistle. "That's a lot of ice."

"Get us as close as you can," Coulson replied, and turned back to meet Loki's gaze. "I know this isn't an easy question, but is there anything we should know that could give us a fighting chance of stopping Laufey's forces?"

Bucky frowned at the question. Coulson wasn't just asking the best way to kill Loki's people; he was asking the best way to kill _Loki_. He didn't know much about SHIELD — aside from the fact it had been infiltrated by HYDRA seventy years ago and they were only just realising now, which didn't exactly inspire confidence — but what was stopping them from using what Loki told them against him as well one day?

Loki seemed to be considering the same when Bucky glanced over to him, but whatever his reservations, he moved past them faster than Bucky would have. "From what I've gathered we're more sensitive to heat than your kind," he said, his brow furrowed in thought. "That may be the best way to gain the advantage."

"Kill 'em with fire," a voice piped up from the front of the jet. "I like this plan already."

They all ignored him.

"I suppose there's no way to resolve this peacefully?" Coulson said to Loki.

It was an effort for Bucky not to scoff. Maybe he was biased after his own encounter with Laufey, but reasonable the man was not. This was only going to end with blood.

Loki's expression said the same, and Coulson sighed.

"I didn't think so."

As they descended between the buildings a flash of red shot past the window, though just as Bucky was getting up to investigate, Stark's voice echoed through the jet. " _Nice of you boys to join the fun,_ " he said.

"How's it looking out there?" Coulson replied.

" _Well, these guys make Loki seem positively cuddly in comparison_."

Once they'd landed with a crunch they caught sight of him again, skidding to a stop fifty feet ahead in the middle of a frozen intersection as a hail of jagged ice shards pelted him from the opposite direction. The Iron Man suit would protect Stark from the damage, but anyone else who found themselves caught in it wouldn't be nearly as lucky. And yet Bucky had an awful feeling that it was nothing compared to what the Casket could do.

He turned back to make his way towards the door while the others got ready to head out after him. He'd made it two steps before his eyes landed on Loki and he stopped short. The last patches of pale skin disappeared in a wash of sapphire as ice glistened around Loki's fingertips, and red eyes met Bucky's.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"Getting yourself killed is what it looks like," Bucky said, and Loki shot him a sceptical look in response. Any objection he was about to make, though, Bucky cut him off before he could speak. "You said if Jotunheim attacked Earth, Asgard would step in to defend us; you think they'll see you as anything but another Jotunn that needs to be stopped?"

Loki opened his mouth to argue again, but Bucky stared him down. If Loki wasn't leaving the jet in human form, he wasn't leaving it at all — Bucky would see to it personally. He'd rather face Loki's rage than watch him get cut down by some overzealous Asgardian who couldn't tell Loki was fighting with them, not against.

Finally Loki huffed, and his skin paled again. "You realise this puts me at a disadvantage," he said, running his fingers over the soft skin of his forearm as he spoke.

"Then don't get hit."

The door to the cargo bay dropped and a rush of bitterly cold air swept into the jet; not as cold as Jotunheim's wastelands, but it wasn't far off. Bucky's breath steamed in front of him as Coulson came to join him and Loki. "Here," he said, and handed them each one of the tiniest earpieces Bucky had ever seen. "Keep in contact. If things get too much for us, I'm calling in a retreat. In my experience, when alien races are battling it out on Earth, it's best to stay out of their way."

Loki eyed the earpiece sceptically, though he put it in without complaint, and the moment Bucky had fixed his own in place, Stark's voice crackled in his ear. " _I've got eyes on Laufey_ ," he said. " _Guessing you got those ravishing good looks from your mother's side of the family, huh Loki?_ "

"Shut up, Stark."

With that, they charged out into the fray.

The wind howled, whipping Bucky's hair into his face as he tried to study his surroundings. He pushed it back out of his eyes and saw... not a whole lot, actually. They were stood in the middle of a blizzard, Laufey's army little more than shadows in the stormy air. He couldn't tell how many frost giants there were, though they were sure as hell more than enough to outmatch the few dozen agents Coulson had managed to call in. Bucky watched in horror as a wave of ice swept through the intersection, crawling up the buildings lining the streets, swallowing everything in its way, until it reached a van that had just pulled up and engulfed the team spilling out from it. When the air cleared, they were statues; the only calm in the growing mayhem.

It was Coulson's voice that spurred him back into action. "Let's move out," he said, an authority in his tone that Bucky couldn't quite believe had come from someone usually so unassuming.

Bucky charged forward, hacking at limbs, plunging his knife deep through thick skin wherever he could do the most damage. He wasn't even looking to see whether they were staying down, too busy dodging the next blow from the next frost giant in his path. Loki was at his side; Loki would make sure the Jotunns Bucky brought down didn't get up again.

They were heading deeper into the mob when something cold hit Bucky's ribs hard. He went down, the air knocked from his lungs, hot blood seeping from the wound in his side. He slid his pistol from his thigh and took aim at the creature advancing on him, sharp, bloodstained ice covering its hand, but before Bucky could squeeze the trigger a burst of green flame erupted at the side of the frost giant's face. It ducked out of the way with a pained screech and Loki stepped forward, flames dying away into nothing in the hand he offered to help Bucky back to his feet.

"Thanks."

"What was that you were saying about not getting hit?" He arched an eyebrow to punctuate his point while Bucky pressed a hand to his ribs. It came away bloody, though the pain was easing already. He'd heal soon enough.

"Might have to re-evaluate that plan."

Bucky turned back to watch the hordes heading in their direction. The torrents of gunfire Coulson's men were unleashing on them wasn't doing a damn thing to slow them down. It was pissing them off, though, as one unfortunate agent learnt the hard way when the Jotunn closest to him launched a spike straight through his throat.

"There's too many," Bucky said, and Loki nodded soberly.

But they weren't outnumbered for long. As Loki thrust his hands out in front of him and with a burst of energy sent a handful of Jotunns barrelling back into the next wave approaching, dark clouds swirled above them, something brewing in the air. Within seconds the skies had opened and a beam of blinding light roared down to the ground. Even from their position on the other side of Laufey's army, Bucky could see the figures spilling from it.

" _Okay, is everybody else seeing this?_ " Stark said. " _Did Laufey open a portal to a Ren faire or something?_ "

" _Asgardians,_ " replied Coulson." _Nice of them to show up and lend a hand at last_."

"We'd not have needed them to if they had done the job they were entrusted with," Loki said under his breath, and strode single-mindedly through the mass of frost giants towards them. But as Bucky raced after him, it became clear there was only one he had any interest in.

"You treacherous snake," he said when he reached Thor, already in the heart of the fighting and dispatching a handful of frost giants with ease.

"Loki!"

Thor turned to face Loki at the insult and tightened his grip on the shaft of his hammer, readying his stance for a fight. And Loki was only too happy to give him one, if his bared teeth and the venom in his tone were anything to go by.

"Choose your words more carefully, Jotunn, or you may find yourself joining your fallen brethren regardless of claimed allegiance."

"And where was your allegiance when Laufey marched straight into Asgard to collect the Casket?" Loki shot back. "We should have known better than to lay our trust in an Asgardian."

"Right, that's enough," Bucky snapped, throwing his arm out in front of Loki in case he felt the urge to lunge forward, before turning his attention to Thor. "What the hell happened?"

Thor straightened and dipped his head apologetically. "The All-father would not listen to reason," he said. "He believed us more than a match against whatever force Laufey could muster to attempt to claim the Casket. They caught us unprepared. But you have my word: we will fight to the last to drive the frost giants from this realm before they do any more harm to your people."

As if to prove himself, Thor spun his hammer and swung it at the creature charging towards him, sending it soaring back through the air from the power of the impact. Though instead of scaring off any frost giants thinking of attacking, the sight seemed to make the three of them a target as just about every Jotunn in the immediate area turned on them, all keen to be the one to take out the mighty Thor.

Well they'd cut their way through plenty of frost giants already. They could handle a few more. But pretty soon the mob descending on them was the last of Bucky's concerns.

He was sliding his pistol back into its holster after taking down another one of the Jotunns surrounding them when he heard possibly the last three words he'd have wanted to in their situation. "I'm sorry, Bucky," Loki said, and disappeared from his side. By the time Bucky had whirled around to catch sight of Loki again he was charging through the crowd towards Laufey's position, one of Bucky's knives in his hand — a hand that was slowly turning blue once again.

"Loki!"

He didn't slow down.

"God damn it," Bucky said through gritted teeth and freed himself from the throng to race after Loki. He ran as fast as he could, hurtling over fallen bodies and weaving between the ones still fighting while he dug out his earpiece and tossed it aside to silence Stark's voice demanding to know what the hell he and Loki thought they were doing.

He wasn't the only one making a beeline for Loki, though. Another Asgardian had spotted him.

Bucky didn't even have time to consciously decide his plan of action; it was instinct more than anything that sent him barrelling into the Asgardian and beating him to unconsciousness. "Sorry, buddy," Bucky said as he climbed to his feet again. "It's nothing personal."

He charged after Loki again, taking out Asgardians and Jotunns alike as they set their sights on Loki heading ever closer to Laufey. At least if Bucky could keep everyone off his tail Loki might not get himself killed just yet. There was no hope once he made it to Laufey, though; even without the Casket in his hands laying waste to the Asgardians dumb enough to challenge him with lethal efficiency, he was flanked by enough frost giants to wipe Loki out long before he got close enough to Laufey to do any damage.

Yet still Loki didn't slow his steps, didn't stop to think his plan through — if he actually had a plan in this. Bucky was beginning to suspect he didn't. He was too far away to do anything to stop him, though. As soon as Loki reached Laufey he was going to die, and all Bucky could do was stand there and watch.

They never should have gotten out of bed.

But before any of them had a chance to take another step, an arrow went cutting through the air in front of Loki to bounce off a nearby frost giant's skin and drop uselessly to the floor. It paused in surprise as Bucky stared baffled as well, though just as the Jotunn was peering down at the arrow it exploded, taking out the handful of frost giants close enough to be caught in the blast and sending others flying backwards from the force of it.

It was distraction enough. Bucky's head whipped back to Loki just in time to see him race the remaining distance between himself and Laufey and sink Bucky's knife deep into his chest.

Everyone around the pair froze in shock, the immediate area jarringly quiet as Loki backed away, his arm coated in dark blue blood. Laufey sank down to his knees and, with one last poisonous glare at Loki, his grip on the Casket loosened. The moment it had dropped to the ground, followed by Laufey's lifeless body, the other Jotunns seemed to come to their senses and charged. Bucky did the same, reaching Loki before the others could and tackling him hard enough to send them both sliding across the ice out of the Jotunns' grasp.

"If we survive this," Bucky said as he rolled off Loki's prone form to land on the cold ground with a thud, "you and I are gonna have a serious talk about your inability to follow instructions."

Loki only laughed in response. "It'll be worth it," he said, an infuriatingly triumphant grin on his face while he gazed over at Bucky.

"I hate you."

"Now, we both know that's not true."

Before Bucky could respond, an outcrop of ice erupted from the ground between him and Loki, and he tumbled backwards, landing hard, his head throbbing from the impact. He didn't have time to recover, though. He jumped to his feet before the painful haze in his head had even cleared and spun to find Loki.

There was a pile of frost giants descending on him.

"Shit," Bucky said, scrambling back over the ice to get to them. He'd made it maybe four steps when the skies opened again and another beam of light hit where Laufey's body had fallen. This time only a half-dozen or so Asgardians emerged from it, led by an older man sat atop an enormous stallion.

He descended from his horse and crossed to pick up the Casket from Laufey's side. None of the frost giants made any attempt to stop him. Whoever this guy was, he had to be damn important.

"Enough," he said, his voice ringing out loud enough to bring the fighting still taking place to a sudden halt despite being nowhere close to a shout. They stood watching him; some reverent, others fearful, but all still, waiting for the man to speak again. "Your king is dead, your war along with him. The Casket of Ancient Winters will return to Asgard once more. This is over."

With the hand not supporting the base of the casket, he cracked the golden spear he held to the ground and in an instant that multicoloured light filled the area again. When it ebbed away into nothing there were just a handful of humans scattered about the frozen streets, Asgard and Jotunheim's armies gone, the ice the only sign they'd ever been there at all.

Bucky stood in silence for a moment, surveying the scene while Coulson's team adjusted to the sudden quiet. They didn't act like it had been anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps it hadn't, for them.

"What the hell?" he heard Stark saying in the background. "Coulson, you do not pay me enough to deal with this level of crazy."

"We don't pay you at all, Mr. Stark."

"You don't? JARVIS, remind me to have Pepper look into that when I'm back home. Hey, Bionic Man." Bucky didn't even bother to roll his eyes as Stark approached. The sound of his metal boots crunching heavily on the ice stopped a few feet from him. "What's with the face? You look even more dour than usual."

Bucky gazed up at the sky, the first signs of the approaching dawn visible now the dark clouds had cleared. "What d'you think's gonna happen to them?"

Tony was shrugging when Bucky glanced back at him. "Not our problem," he said dismissively. "So what's the plan now?"

"There isn't one."

He nodded. "Well if you're looking for a way to kill some time, you could swing by Stark Industries; let me take a look at that arm."

Bucky frowned, instinctively curling his arm away from Stark as if he was going to lunge for it, and Stark raised his hands at Bucky's expression.

"I promise not to use my powers for evil."

"Then why do you want to know how it works?"

"You think you're the only soldier to lose a limb in combat? Your 70-year-old hardware is still miles beyond the prosthetics we're working with today. Combine that with my considerable talents, and you could help make a real difference." Before he could continue with the sales pitch, Stark's brow furrowed and he looked around, finally realising their team was missing a member. "Where's Loki?"

Bucky turned away, swallowing the lump in his throat without bothering to answer the question. Stark was a smart guy; he could figure it out. Bucky wasn't sure he could even form the words. He was having a hard time just admitting it to himself.

Loki was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

Bucky didn't sleep when they returned to the hotel. How could he? Loki was off God knows where — back on Jotunheim, probably, but the frost giants could have been sent anywhere for all Bucky knew. Yet even if they had been sent back to their home world, there was no way that would be the end of it. Loki had said that after the last time Jotunheim attacked Earth, Asgard had banished them to their own world, powerless. Bucky didn't want to imagine what their punishment would be this time. And Loki was trapped there with them.

"Loki'll be fine," Stark had said when they'd stepped wearily through the door to his suite after a journey back to the hotel marked by silence — on Bucky's part, at least. "Isn't he technically king now, with Laufey dead? That should buy him some protection."

"Or put him first on the chopping block." He'd turned back to face Stark, the first time he'd bothered to make eye contact with anyone since the battle ended, and Stark had offered him a sympathetic look in response. Like it was already too late. Bucky glanced away again.

"Well there's nothing we can do for him yet," Stark had sighed, passing Bucky to carefully lay the case his Iron Man suit was stored in on the coffee table, before gesturing towards the bathroom door. "Get cleaned up, get some rest. You're no good to Loki passed out from exhaustion. Plus you look disgusting."

Bucky had nodded and made his way into the bathroom, absently scrubbing the blood from his face and hands while he listened for the sound of Stark heading into the bedroom. As soon as he'd heard the door close with a soft click, Bucky had emerged from the bathroom again, footsteps silent as he crossed the room. He'd grabbed a jacket and slipped back out of the suite.

There was traffic on the roads already when Bucky left the hotel, despite barely being dawn yet. He should have expected it in this part of the city, but still it was no good to him. He charged through the streets, mindless of what people might think seeing a fully-armed man striding through downtown DC, until he reached a quiet residential street, the houses still in darkness.

Bucky moved quickly. He broke into the first car parked at the side of the road, and in a rare stroke of luck, found the keys hidden behind the sun visor, pulling away onto the main road towards the freeway before anyone could even notice he was there. By the time someone called the cops, he'd already be long gone.

He could only remember making this journey once before, though he raced along the roads at top speed as if he knew the way like the back of his hand. He'd find where he was going. He had to. Already Bucky couldn't stop picturing what Loki could be going through, the tortures the Asgardians could be dishing out right at that moment — to say nothing of what Loki's fellow Jotunns would do to him as punishment for killing Laufey.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, but Bucky swallowed back the bile rising in his throat. He had to focus. If he let his emotions overwhelm him, he wouldn't be any use at all. Maybe that thought was some of the Winter Soldier slipping back through again, though Bucky didn't find it nearly as disturbing as the other times he'd noticed it. He'd happily embrace that side of himself fully if it meant he could get to Loki sooner.

Eyes fixed on the road in front of him, Bucky pushed his foot harder on the gas pedal and raced on. As soon as the trees that had been looming closer towered over Bucky and swallowed up the road he was driving along he ditched the car, and set off on foot through the trees.

He could feel the first few drops of cold rain on his face as he kicked his way through scrub brush, his boots squelching in the occasional patch of wet mud, and while he walked the clouds overhead grew darker, rain falling faster and heavier. Bucky couldn't bring himself to care, didn't even bother to try and shield himself from the fat droplets pelting him. The weather was going to get a hell of a lot worse where he was heading.

After what had to be hours of trekking through the forest, Bucky found the pair of ancient-looking trees he was looking for, standing parallel to each other in a tiny clearing. _Finally_. Without even taking a moment to stop and sigh in relief he crossed towards them, tracing the runes carved deep into the bark with his finger, before he zipped up his jacket to brace against the oncoming cold and stepped between the trees.

But there was no sudden darkness, no rush of bitter air, no rocks scraping at Bucky's arms as he made his way out of the cave into Jotunheim's increasingly familiar landscape. There was nothing, nothing but trees and grey skies above him. It hadn't worked.

Bucky frowned and tried again, and again he found himself stood on the other side of the trees. Perhaps he wasn't in the right place. Anyone could come along with a knife and carve some symbols into a tree, after all.

He'd take that explanation over the alternative.

Well, there was one way to find out for sure. Bucky took a few long strides away from the trees, nudging aside the leaves and twigs covering the ground with his foot as he went, hope building in his chest with each step until it disappeared in an instant at the sound of something hollow underfoot. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath before crouching to sweep the leaves aside. There was a metal trapdoor underneath them.

He dropped his head, a heavy sigh forcing its way from his lungs like his entire body was beginning to deflate. He was in the right place. So why the hell couldn't he pass through the portal?

Asgard. It had to be. If they were cutting Jotunheim off from the rest of the universe, sealing the paths between it and the other worlds was bound to be the first step. Which meant there was no way for Bucky to get to Loki.

Bucky sprang to his feet and his gaze flicked up to the sky, blinking against the rain still falling. They were out there, somewhere. "Hey," he screamed to the heavens, his throat scratching at the force of it and birds scattering from the trees above him, "there's gotta be someone listening up there, right? What the hell have you done?"

Silence. He wasn't really expecting an answer, but that didn't make it any easier to not get one.

Where was Thor in this? He knew Loki was on their side, and regardless of what Loki thought of the guy he seemed honourable enough. Too honourable to let Loki suffer the same fate as the rest of his kind.

"Come on! The only reason Laufey didn't catch you with your thumbs up your asses was 'cause of us — you owe me some damn answers!"

The response he got, though, didn't come from Asgard.

"At ease, soldier," a voice said from somewhere behind Bucky. Coulson.

Bucky whirled around to face him. "How did you know I was here?"

"Stark called to let me know you'd taken off," he said as he stepped forward through the brush, the hems of his suit trousers covered in mud and bits of foliage. "Where else would you be?"

"The portal — tell me you know something."

Coulson nodded, though from the look on his face, whatever he knew wasn't good. "Radiation levels dropped back off a few hours ago. From what we can tell, it looks like the portal's gone, or closed perhaps."

Yeah, he'd figured out that much already. His fists clenched, but he managed to bite back the frustration bubbling up within him. "There's gotta be another way in," he said, though even as he spoke he knew that was a pipe dream. "There's gotta be something we can do."

"We're dealing with forces bigger than us, Barnes. The best thing we can do is wait this out."

"Yeah, well 'out of sight, out of mind' might work for you boys at SHIELD, but if Loki needs my help, I'm not just gonna sit on my ass and do nothing. I owe him more than that." To think, less than 24 hours ago it was Loki risking his life to save Bucky.

He turned back to the trees, as if the portal might have opened again in the time he'd been speaking with Coulson, that someone on Asgard might have actually been listening and taken sympathy on him. A humourless smirk tugged at the corner of Bucky's lips at the thought. Who was he kidding? He was insignificant to them, just like Loki was. No-one else was going to open that portal.

"What about magic?" Bucky said as he faced Coulson again. "There have to be people on Earth with the kind of power to get us to Jotunheim."

"Maybe so, but this is all new to us; if there are people with those kind of skills out there, SHIELD doesn't know about them yet."

Bucky closed his eyes, exhaustion creeping up on him. But he wasn't about to accept that there was nothing they could do to help. Even if SHIELD didn't know of anyone with any knowledge of magic, that didn't mean Bucky wouldn't be able to find them if he searched hard enough.

"Come on," Coulson said, tilting his head in the direction he'd come from, and with one last glance back at the trees, Bucky reluctantly followed. As they walked back through the trees he offered Bucky a white paper bag. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Jelly doughnuts," he replied while Bucky took the bag from him and peered inside. "I didn't think you'd have bothered to eat anything during this little trip of yours."

Bucky shook his head and took a bite of one of the doughnuts. He wasn't sure eating would do anything to ease the unpleasant churning in his stomach, though. He could barely even taste as he swallowed his mouthful.

"We'll figure something out." Coulson was shooting Bucky a sympathetic look similar to the one Stark had offered him when Bucky looked up to meet his gaze, though there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "It might take us a while, but we'll find a way to help Loki."

It was better than nothing, he supposed. He just hoped Loki could hold on long enough for Bucky to find him.


	15. Chapter 15

It had been two weeks since Jotunheim had attacked. Since Loki had disappeared. Progress in finding him had been pretty much non-existent in that time, to Bucky's growing frustration. He'd lost count of the number of supposed shamans and mystics he and Coulson had managed to track down, though the main thing he'd taken away from their meetings was that they were all either delusional or outright con artists, and neither kind reacted well when Bucky said that to their faces.

"How's your eye?" Stark said. They were in the workshop beneath his enormous home in California, Bucky sat shirtless in a chair beside an array of machines and staring warily at the handful of uncomfortably familiar-looking tools scattered across the nearby table.

He'd agreed to this, he told himself yet again. There was only so long he could put it off. And with no new leads in finding Loki and Coulson heading back to DC on SHIELD business for a few days, now was as good a time as any to get this over with.

"Fine," Bucky replied while Stark pulled up a stool and positioned himself next to his metal arm. The punch hadn't even left a mark. It probably wouldn't have done even without his enhanced strength. "How hard do you think a psychic can hit?"

"Good point. You ready?"

 _No_.

Bucky nodded and sat back in the chair, clenching his jaw as Stark began pressing electrodes to his skin, connecting him to the machines surrounding them. The smell of motor oil and the music piping into the room were a welcome change from the cold clinicality that was usually a part of Bucky's memories of being hooked up to strange machines and tinkered with by scientists, but still they didn't do much to soothe him. His heartbeat quickened while Stark worked, and the instant the last wires were in place a fast bleeping filled the room, echoing off the concrete walls loud enough to make Bucky wince.

Stark raised his eyebrows. "Easy," he said, reaching over to turn down the volume until the noise was almost inaudible. "I'm just gonna take a look; no sinister experiments without your permission. You want a Valium?"

"No, thank you."

He took a deep breath while Tony reached for one of his tools and set to work prising away the casing just above Bucky's elbow, though his body was still rigid with tension. That was nothing new by now. The only time in recent months he could remember feeling anything but an unpleasant knot in his stomach was his last night with Loki, those few perfect, stress-free moments before Laufey had attacked.

Perhaps now wasn't the best time to think of Loki, though. His hands curled into fists, and Stark's eyes flicked up to study Bucky's face with apprehension. "Should I be in the suit for this?" he said.

"I'd rather you weren't." That would be just what he needed: a heavily armoured scientist tinkering with him. As if he wasn't uncomfortable enough already. He was almost surprised HYDRA had never thought to do the same when they'd prepared the Winter Soldier for his missions, to protect themselves when he lashed out, or just as a way to exert even more control over him. If they'd had anything close to the Iron Man technology they almost certainly would have done.

"Okay, but for the record, I'd rather you didn't try to kill me with this thing while I'm working," Stark said, tapping at Bucky's arm as he spoke.

"I'll try my best."

"Well that's comforting."

He leant down to peer at the wires in place of bones and tendons while Bucky stared unblinking at the wall opposite and fought to calm himself. This was going to help people. He couldn't be entirely sure Stark wasn't going to use whatever information he discovered for his own gain, but as long as letting him study the arm was going to make a positive difference in someone's life, it had to be worth the discomfort.

Stark was still focused on fiddling with the insides of Bucky's arm when he next spoke. "How are the nightmares?" he said after a few minutes.

"Not going away any time soon." Though now it was images of dark hair and pale skin haunting Bucky's dreams when he wasn't remembering past missions, and even if they were better than his nightmares about his time under HYDRA's control, he wasn't any happier when he woke sweat soaked in an empty room in the middle of the night.

"We'll get you set up with something to knock you straight out; let you get some real sleep."

"Thanks."

"So when are you and Coulson getting back to business?"

"As soon as he's back." Not that there was much point. They were getting nowhere, and the only reason Bucky hadn't given up on finding a magical way to Jotunheim was because he didn't have any other ideas. Unless he felt like screaming himself hoarse until someone on Asgard finally started listening. It was becoming a more and more tempting option by the day. "Things have gotta be pretty hectic over at SHIELD."

SHIELD had managed to bury a surprising amount of information about what had actually happened when the frost giants had attacked — flexing powers Bucky hadn't even been aware the organisation had — though there were still rumours, unconfirmed reports of blue-skinned aliens laying waste to parts of the capital. Of course, the World Security Council knew the real story and was still trying to get Phase 2 up and running again as a deterrent against extra-terrestrial threats, despite the slight hiccup of all traces of the project mysteriously disappearing from SHIELD's systems, but Coulson had assured him Director Fury was doing everything in his power to delay the development.

Bucky wasn't entirely sure how he was meant to do that at the same time as facing the pretty daunting task of trying to figure out which of SHIELD's members were secretly working for HYDRA, but he had too much on his mind already to bring himself to care. Once he managed to find Loki he could dedicate himself to tracking down HYDRA, but until then, it wasn't Bucky's problem.

"I take it there's still no word from Loki," said Stark.

"What's he gonna do, send a postcard?"

"You think he's still alive?"

"He has to be."

Bucky couldn't let himself think of the alternative. But the thought that he'd never know for sure, spending the rest of his life wondering whether or not Loki had survived, if he'd been tortured or imprisoned as part of the frost giants' punishment, was just as hard to stomach.

"So how long are you and Coulson going to keep this up?" Stark said after a moment. He rolled his stool back as he spoke until he was just beyond the reach of Bucky's arm. He couldn't tell if that was a deliberate move or not.

"Until we find him."

"Okay, I hate to play devil's advocate here, but what happens if you don't?" He was peering intently at the instruments laid out across the table beside him when Bucky snapped his head around to glare at him, which was probably why he continued speaking regardless of the thin ice he was heading across. "I mean, are you just going to keep on tracking down people with occult knowledge for the rest of your life? When do you say enough is enough?"

"Never."

"Sounds like a good way to drive yourself insane," he replied. "People leave; more often than not they don't come back. It sucks, but it's life. You've been given a second chance — you should make the most of it. Move on, you know. Maybe it's better—"

"To what?" Bucky snapped. What the hell was he supposed to do, forget? Cast Loki aside now he had no need for him anymore? It wasn't going to happen.

Stark met his eyes again then, sympathy etched into his features. "The words 'loved and lost' are coming to mind."

Bucky stared back at him, but before he could reply — or just reach out and punch him like he had half a mind to — the door opened and a well-dressed redhead walked into the room, a box tucked under her arm.

"What are you still doing here, Tony?" she said. She didn't sound remotely surprised by it, though.

"I live here, Pepper."

"We were meant to be on our way to New York by now."

Stark blinked, glancing from Pepper to Bucky as if he was hoping he'd fill him in. "We were?"

"We're meeting potential architects for Stark Tower, as I've reminded you every day this week."

He sighed, but even as he did so he started setting the casing back in place on Bucky's arm. "You could meet with them by yourself," he said.

"They don't want to see me; they want to see Tony Stark. It is your building, after all."

"They wouldn't be missing out on anything. You know it all just as well as I do."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that," she replied, the forced politeness in her tone unable to completely mask the hint of exasperation beneath it, though if Stark had noticed it as well, he was apparently too used to it to call attention to it. "But as CEO of your own company you are occasionally expected to do some work instead of playing — sorry, Mr. Barnes," she added quickly with a smile in Bucky's direction.

"Don't worry about it," he replied. He was glad to get away, if he was honest.

"Agent Coulson dropped this off for you before he left this morning," she said to him as she set the box down on the table beside Stark's tools.

"Thank you."

He opened the envelope that was sat on top of the box first. ' _I know you're getting tired of chasing dead ends, but this guy is supposed to be the real deal_ ,' the note read in Coulson's neat handwriting beneath the name Stephen Strange and an address in Manhattan. ' _The contents of the box are from my personal collection — I thought you might like to have them_.'

Bucky slid the note back into its envelope and set it beside the box. He'd go through it once he was back in his hotel room.

"We haven't lost him," he said to Stark as he climbed out of the chair and slipped his t-shirt on again.

"I hope you're right."

Bucky crossed the room to where Pepper was waiting by the door, and she walked with him to the front of the house. "Happy will take you back to your hotel," she said, gesturing at the car waiting outside the door, before heading back inside, presumably to try and drag Stark out of his workshop.

He spent the ride in silence, sat gazing out at the sunlight twinkling over the ocean, still shining bright and warm despite it being well into fall, listening to the traffic report on the radio and the quiet purr of the car's engine without really hearing any of it. As they went round a sharp bend Coulson's box slid across the seat and nudged into Bucky's side, and he pulled it onto his lap.

'From his personal collection.' What could he own that he'd think Bucky might have a use for?

There was one way to find out. He plucked the lid off the box and smiled at the old Captain America comic books neatly stored in plastic covers inside. There were one or two that didn't look familiar as Bucky leafed through them, though he had to have read the others — partly because it used to make Steve uncomfortable and partly because the stories were actually pretty good, even if they were nothing like what the Howling Commandos really got up to during the war.

Underneath the comics were a similarly faded set of trading cards and a flyer for a USO show Steve had appeared at, but it was the photo album at the bottom of the box that caught Bucky's eye. Inside were a series of glossy black-and-white photos, most of Steve in action on the front lines or in SSR meetings, with the odd shot of Howard Stark and Peggy Carter sandwiched between them. Bucky's smile grew as he looked through the pictures, until nestled between a few images of the Howling Commandos, he found a photo of himself and Steve sitting at the side of a dirt road in one of the countless European forests they'd found themselves in, laughing at a joke he'd long since forgotten, unconcerned by the horrors they'd already witnessed, the ones they'd known were still to come.

They'd had no idea how bad things would really get.

He sighed, and when the car rolled to a stop Bucky stared back out of the window up at his hotel. He had a nice room thanks to Stark's generosity, yet despite the comfort, all it felt was painfully empty.

He didn't much care for solitude. He'd never really had any, aside from his time locked away wherever HYDRA kept him when he wasn't needed, and now after months with Loki at his side at all times, the isolation was crushing.

It wouldn't last for much longer, though.

Bucky was thumbing the envelope in his hand as he stepped from the elevator on his floor, considering whether or not it was worth waiting for Coulson before paying this guy a visit. It'd probably be a bust anyway. Though when he rounded the corner and looked up, the subject disappeared from his mind completely, and Bucky stopped short at the sight of a familiar dark-haired figure sat waiting outside his door.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he said as he approached, a wide grin stretching across his face, and at the sound of his voice Loki looked up at him and beamed. "So do I have to bow, or salute to you now, or something?"

"I'd certainly have no objection if you wished to," Loki replied smoothly, and got to his feet while Bucky leant against the doorframe. "That's a new look," he said, his eyes flicking to Bucky's shorn hair.

"Old look, technically. You like it?"

"I do."

"When did you get back?" Bucky said while he dug his key card from his pocket and opened the door, stepping back to let Loki stroll inside first. He was still struggling to wrap his head around the fact Loki was even here. It didn't seem possible.

"This morning."

He paused mid-step. "And you made it all the way across the country in a few hours?"

"Agent Coulson helped," Loki explained, and at the confusion creasing Bucky's brows he elaborated. "I stole a man's cell phone and managed to contact him; he arranged to have me brought here to you."

"He never called to let me know you were back."

"Nor would he let me do it myself," Loki said. "He said you were long overdue to have a pleasant surprise."

Bucky laughed weakly. That it definitely was. He didn't even care to let Coulson have it for not telling him sooner. Loki was back. Nothing else came close to mattering.

As Bucky remembered himself and stepped through the doorway Loki glanced around the room. "You're still studying the Winter Soldier's records?" he said when he laid eyes on the dining table littered with old SHIELD files and newspaper clippings in half a dozen different languages.

"Whatever I can dig up," Bucky replied, crossing the room while he spoke and perching on the edge of the coffee table to watch Loki. "Ain't exactly light reading."

Anyone else would have asked Bucky why he kept digging into his history as the Winter Soldier if it troubled him so much, why he couldn't just enjoy the blissful ignorance, but Loki just nodded in response. He already knew why Bucky had to know what he'd done.

"Am I gonna have to force it out of you, or what?" Bucky said after another few moments of Loki studying Bucky's room in silence, and Loki looked back at him curiously. "What the hell happened after you left Earth?"

Realisation flooded Loki's face, and he dipped his head apologetically as he came to join Bucky. "Asgard was surprisingly merciful," he began, taking a seat on the couch opposite Bucky while he spoke. "After a tedious amount of diplomacy and negotiation, we've simply been bound to our own realm, and the hidden paths from Jotunheim sealed. I imagine Laufey's death had some impact on that decision. But unless his successor decides upon a similar show of force, Jotunheim shouldn't cause any more trouble."

"His successor? As in, not you?"

Loki shrugged. "I suppose I could always return to claim my throne should I choose to in the future," he said. "But I'd like to see more of what the universe has to offer — if I can ever find it in me to tear myself away from here. Besides," he added, "with no heir to the throne on Jotunheim, it'll be chaos."

He looked thrilled by the prospect.

Bucky couldn't help the smile stretching across his own face as well. "So you're sticking around for a while, then."

"If you'll have me."

"Oh I don't know, I'll have to think about that." He stared at Loki for a moment, watching him smile back at Bucky, and a laugh bubbled up from his chest. "God, I can't believe you're back," he said. "I've been trying everything to find you. There was nothing I could—"

He wasn't sure if he was apologising or explaining himself. He just needed Loki to know, that he'd cared Loki was gone, that he hadn't sat and done nothing when Loki might have needed him.

"How did you even make it back?"

"I doubt the Asgardians ever expected a Jotunn to have knowledge of their magics" Loki said, a wicked glint in his eye. "The spells they used to seal the doorways between the realms were embarrassingly basic. It took mere minutes for me to reverse them. Though I doubt you would have been able to provide much aid had you found a way into Jotunheim yourself."

"Could've killed some Asgardians; that might've provided aid."

Loki's voice was fond when he spoke. "You've just helped prevent one war and already you're looking to start the second?"

"It's what I do, apparently."

The warm smile on Loki's face faltered a little at Bucky's words, though Bucky changed the subject before either of them could linger too long on the thoughts of Bucky's life as the Winter Soldier.

"I missed you," he said softly, and leant forward to press his lips against Loki's. The universe didn't seem quite as crazy with Loki at his side. It was still pretty damn crazy, but at least he had someone else that was as baffled by it as he was.

"You're not alone in the sentiment," Loki replied. "Jotunheim isn't nearly as fun without you laying waste to the place."

"Well maybe if you go back you can take me with you to see what else I can destroy."

They shared a soft laugh at that, before Loki's gaze moved to Bucky's hair again. His hand followed, reaching across the short distance between them to ghost along Bucky's temple towards his hairline, and Bucky's eyes slipped closed at the brush of fingertips against his scalp.

He sensed Loki's movement before he opened his eyes to see it; Loki leaning forward in his seat into Bucky's space, his scent heavy in the air between them, one of the few things that felt familiar to him these days. Bucky breathed it in, letting Loki fill all of his senses until he was Bucky's entire universe. His lips pressed gently against Bucky's for the briefest of moments before he pulled back to meet Bucky's eyes.

"Stark isn't going to interrupt us again, is he?" Loki said, and his gaze flicked to the door as if he was waiting for him to burst in any second.

"If he does, I'll shoot him."

Bucky kissed him again, his tongue slipping against Loki's own the moment Loki opened his mouth for it, savouring the taste of him like he'd been starved of it. He gripped harder at the coffee table beneath him as their kiss deepened and Loki's hand slid down his torso to graze along the inside of his thigh.

"Come with me," Bucky said, pulling away from Loki's lips just enough to get the words out, and with that he was on his feet, dragging Loki up and through the French doors into the bedroom.

Before he could even close the doors behind them Loki's mouth was on him again, warm against Bucky's neck as he slid his t-shirt up his chest and Bucky's heart pounded. It only beat faster when Loki's lips moved down his exposed stomach, leaving Bucky to pull his shirt over his head while Loki tugged down Bucky's jeans.

"Oh, God." Bucky's hips lurched forward of their own accord when Loki licked him, his blood on fire already before they'd even started. He needed to control himself. "Get on the bed," he said. There was a hell of a lot more authority in his voice than he was feeling.

Loki straightened and backed towards the bed with a grin, peeling his own clothes off while Bucky fumbled to kick off his boots and untangle himself from his jeans around his ankles.

Loki was completely bare and sprawled on the bed waiting for him when Bucky looked up again. His breath caught in his throat at the sight; long limbs stretched out across the mattress and an expanse of flawless, pale skin. It was nothing Bucky hadn't seen before already, but this time it was different.

"What is it?" Loki said when Bucky stayed rooted in place by the door.

"I just never would have thought we'd end up here."

"Are you glad we did?"

Now there was a stupid question if ever Bucky had heard one. And from the way Loki still gazed back at him, his body an offering for Bucky to dive in and taste, he already knew exactly what Bucky's answer was going to be. Bucky climbed onto the bed, his limbs framing Loki's body, and leant in to kiss him slow and deep.

Loki grinned against him when Bucky pulled back. "I'll take that as a yes."

They stayed like that for a while, Bucky half draped over Loki's body as they kissed themselves breathless, until the anticipation became too much for both of them and their hands started groping to pull each other closer, hips moving in search of more friction. They moved tentatively; more so than maybe they should have, since they had almost done this before, after all — and had Laufey not chosen the perfect time to attack, Bucky would have gone through with this without hesitation. He would have done anything Loki wanted. He still would.

Bucky dragged his fingers along the hard muscle of Loki's arm, tracing where the markings would be if Loki was in his Jotunn form. "Is this okay?"

He wasn't sure he could bring himself to stop if it wasn't. It was more effort than Bucky could summon just to keep his lips away from Loki, though luckily Loki seemed to be having the same problem.

Loki let out a huff of laughter against Bucky's skin. "Oh, very much so," he said, voice breathless, and Bucky pulled back from the spot beneath Loki's jaw he'd been sucking at to look at him, his skin flushed, lips dark and shining with spit, his hair sticking in all directions where Bucky's fingers had raked through it. It was the greatest sight Bucky could ever remember having laid eyes on.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"Callous romps with whatever Jotunns could stomach the sight of me," Loki replied, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Bucky's neck. "Not like this. Never like this."

He pulled Loki closer and Loki's fingers dug into Bucky's hips in turn as they moved, both torn between pushing for more, faster, before they could be ripped away from each other again, and slowly exploring every inch of one another's bodies as if they were the only two people left in the world. It was an effort for Bucky to keep his pace steady. God, he wanted more, needed to chase the pleasure building low in his abdomen, but he held back. There was no rush now. No interruptions, no mission, nothing more important than Loki's body pressed against his, his lips on Bucky's skin, arms wrapped around him holding him close. And he was going to make the most of every damn second they could get before the universe crashed down around them again.

A soft moan slipped unbidden from Bucky's lips and he tangled his leg with Loki's to hold him in place against his body. They were already pressed together about as tightly as they could get, though Bucky would still have Loki closer, would bury himself in Loki if he could. Though for now, this was enough.

He held Loki like he'd drown if he let go, swallowed up by the sensations overwhelming him, gripping Loki's shoulder hard — too hard. His metal hand would probably be crushing bone if it was anyone else lying there with him, but Loki didn't even bruise beneath Bucky's fingers.

Bucky's body grew tight while they moved with more intensity, tension growing within him until it was almost too much, until Loki reached a hand between their bodies to add to the friction and that was it. He buried his face in the crook of Loki's neck, his cry muffled against damp skin as he let go, lost himself in the pleasure. His movements had barely slowed to a stop when he felt Loki's body go rigid against him and more wetness spilled between them.

Neither of them spoke for a while, their heavy, shaking breaths filling the otherwise silent bedroom, until finally Bucky found the strength to pull back and meet Loki's eyes. Loki returned the smile on Bucky's face with one of his own, and they dissolved into soft laughter against each other.

"Well, that was something," Loki said.

"Yeah." Bucky rolled onto his back with a satisfied sigh and folded his arms beneath his head. Not even the heavy fatigue settling throughout his body was able to shift the dopey grin from his face. "Yeah, it really was."

He closed his eyes, more relaxed than he'd felt in God knows how long, until Loki shifted beside him and Bucky watched him prop himself up on an elbow and gaze back down at Bucky. "So," Loki said, "Laufey's gone, Jotunheim is no longer a threat — what happens now?"

"We're going after HYDRA," replied Bucky. "You in?"

Loki leant over him, catching Bucky's mouth for a deep kiss in answer, and Bucky smiled against Loki's lips.

As if he'd even needed to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos, etc. You guys are awesome xx

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [fanart for 'Machines ,Gods and Monsters'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4042858) by [stormbrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbrite/pseuds/stormbrite)




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